A   SET   OF    ROGUES 


A  SET  OF   ROGUES 

TO    WIT 

CHRISTOPHER  SUTTON 

JOHN   DAWSON 

THE  SENOR  DON  SANCHEZ 

DEL  CASTILLO  DE  CASTELANA 

AND  MOLL  DAWSON 

THEIR  WICKED   CONSPIRACY 

AND  A  TRUE  ACCOUNT  OF  THEIR 
TRAVELS  AND  ADVENTURES 

TOGETHER  WITH    MANY  OTHER  SURPRISING  THINGS,  NOW 

DISCLOSED  FOR  THE  FIRST  TIME,  AS  THE  FAITHFUL 

CONFESSION  OF  CHRISTOPHER  SUTTON 


BY 


FRANK    BARRETT 

AUTHOR  OF  "  THE  ADMIRABLE  LADY  BIDDY  FANE,' 
"  THE  GREAT  HESPER,"  ETC. 


MACMILLAN    AND    CO. 

AND     LONDON 
1895 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1895, 
BY  MACMILLAN  AND  CO. 


< 


J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


set 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

PAGE 

Of  my  companions  and  our  adversities,  and  in  particular  from 
our  getting  into  the  stocks  at  Tottenham  Cross  to  our  being 
robbed  at  Edmonton .  .  I 


CHAPTER   II. 

Of  our  first  acquaintance  with  the  Senor  Don  Sanchez  del  Castillo 

de  Castelana,  and  his  brave  entertaining  of  us 10 


CHAPTER   III. 
Of  that  design  which  Don  Sanchez  opened  to  us  at  the  Bell 18 

CHAPTER   IV. 

Of  the  several  parts  that  we  are  appointed  to  play 27 

CHAPTER  V. 

Don  Sanchez  puts  tts  in  the  way  of  robbing  with  an  easy  conscience       34 

CHAPTER  VI. 

A I  oil  is  cast  to  play  the  part  of  a  fine  lady  ;  doubtful  promise  for 

this  undertaking 46 


M638746 


VI  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

PAGE 

Of  our  journey  through   France  to  a  very  horrid  pass  in  the 

Pyraneans 52 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

How  we  were  entertained  in  the  mountains,  and  stand  in  a  fair 

way  to  have  our  throats  cut 61 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Of  the  manner  in  which  we  escaped  pretty  fairly  out  of  the  hands 

of  Seilor  Don  Lopez  and  his  brigands 70 


CHAFIER   X. 
Of  our  merry  journeying  to  Alicante 79 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Of  our  first  coming  to  Elche  and  the  strangeness  of  that  city  ....        88 

CHAPTER  XII. 

How  Don  Sanchez  very  honestly  offers  to  free  us  of  our  bargain 

if  we  will;  but  we  will  not 96 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
A  brief  summary  of  those  tivelve  months  we  spent  at  Elche 104 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Of  our  coming  to  London  (with  incidents  by  the  way),  and  of  the 

great  address  whereby  Moll  confounds  Simon,  the  steward. . .      114 


CONTENTS.  Vll 


CHAPTER   XV. 

PAGE 

Lay  our  hands  on  six  hundred  pounds  and  quarter  ourselves  in 
Hurst  Court,  but  stand  in  a  fair  way  to  be  undone  by  Daw-    . 
son,  his  folly 127 

CHAPTER   XVI. 

Prosper  as  well  as  any  thieves  may ;   but  Dawson  greatly  tor- 
mented       135 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

How  Dawson  for  Moll's  good  parts  company  with  us,  and  goes 

away  a  lonely  man 144 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

Of  our  getting  a  painter  into  the  Court,  with  whom  our  Moll 

falls  straightway  in  love 152 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Of  the  business  appointed  to  the  painter,  and  how  he  set  about  the 

same 161 

CHAPTER    XX. 

Of  MoWs  ill  humour  and  what  befel  thereby 170 

CHAPTER    XXI. 
Of  the  strange  things  told  us  by  the  wise  woman 180 

CHAPTER   XXII. 

How  Moll  and  Mr.   Godwin  come  together   and  declare  their 

hearts'  passion,  and  how  I  carry  these  tidings  to  Dawson. .      185 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

PAGE 

Don  Sanchez  proposes  a.  very  artful  way  to  make  Mr.  Godwin 

a  party  to  our  knavery,  etc 197 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

I  overcome  MoWs  honest  compunctions,  lay  hold  of  three  thousand 
pounds  more,  and  do  otherwise  play  the  part  of  rascal  to 
perfection 203 


CHAPTER   XXV. 
A  table  of  various  accidents 212 

CHAPTER  XXVI. 

How  Moll  Daivson  %vas  married  to  Mr.  Richard  Godwin  ;  brief 

account  of  attendant  circumstances 220 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Of  the  great  change  jn  Moll,  and  the  likely  explanation  thereof. .     233 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 
Moll  plays  us  a  mad  prank  for  the  last  time  in  her  life 237 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

Of  the  subtile  means  whereby  Simon  leads  Mr.  Godwin  to  doubt 

his  wife 247 

CHAPTER   XXX. 
How  we  are  discovered  and  utterly  undone 254 


CONTENTS.  IX 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 

PAGE 

Mollys  conscience  is  quickened  by  grief  and  humiliation  beyond 

the  ordinary 259 

CHAPTER   XXXII. 

How  we  fought  a  most  bloody  battle  -with  Simon,  the  constable, 

and  others 265 

CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

We  take  Moll  to  Greenwich  ;  but  no  great  happiness  for  her  there     271 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

All  agree  to  go  out  to  Spain  again  in  search  of  our  old  jollity . ...      281 

CHAPTER  XXXV. 
How  we  lost  our  poor  Moll,  and  our  long  search  for  her 288 

CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

IV e  learn  what  hath  become  of  Moll ;  and  how  she  nobly  atoned 

for  our  sins 300 

CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

Don  Sanchez  again  proves  himself  the  most  mannerly  rascal  in 

the  world 308 

CHAPTER  XXXVIII. 

How  we  hear  MoWs  sweet  voice  through  the  walls  of  her  prison, 

and  speak  two  words  with  her,  tJiougJi  almost  to  our  undoing.     313 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 

PAGE 

Of  our  bargaining  witJi  a  Moorish  seaman  ;  and  of  an  English 

slave 322 


CHAPTER  XL. 

Of  our  escape  from  Barbary,  of  the  pursuit  and  horrid,  fear- 
ful slaughter  that  followed,  together  with  other  moving  cir- 
cumstances   , 330 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

How  Dawson  counts  himself  an  unlucky  man  who  were  best 

dead ;  and  so  he  quits  us,  and  /,  the  reader 340 


A   SET   OF    ROGUES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Of  my  companions  and  our  adversities,  and  in  particular  from  our 
getting  into  the  stocks  at  Tottenham  Cross  to  our  being  robbed  at 
Edmonton. 

THERE  being  no  plays  to  be  acted  at  the  "Red  Bull," 
because  of  the  Plague,  and  the  players  all  cast  adrift  for 
want  of  employment,  certain  of  us,  to  wit,  Jack  Dawson 
and  his  daughter  Moll,  Ned  Herring,  and  myself,  clubbed 
our  monies  together  to  buy  a  store  of  dresses,  painted 
cloths,  and  the  like,  with  a  cart  and  horse  to  carry  them, 
and  thus  provided  set  forth  to  travel  the  country  and  turn 
an  honest  penny,  in  those  parts  where  the  terror  of  pesti- 
lence had  not  yet  turned  men's  stomachs  against  the  pleas- 
ures of  life.  And  here,  at  our  setting  out,  let  me  show 
what  kind  of  company  we  were.  First,  then,  for  our 
master,  Jack  Dawson,  who  on  no  occasion  was  to  be  given 
a  second  place;  he  was  a  hale,  jolly  fellow,  who  would  eat 
a  pound  of  beef  for  his  breakfast  (when  he  could  get  it), 
and  make  nothing  of  half  a  gallon  of  ale  therewith, — a  very 
masterful  man,  but  kindly  withal,  and  pleasant  to  look  at 
when  not  contraried,  with  never  a  line  of  care  in  his  face, 
though  turned  of  fifty.  He  played  our  humorous  parts,  but 
he  had  a  sweet  voice  for  singing  of  ditties,  and  could  fetch 
a  tear  as  readily  as  a  laugh,  and  he  was  also  exceeding 

B  I 


2  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

nimble  at  a  dance,  which  was  the  strangest  thing  in  the 
world,  considering  his  great  girth.  Wife  he  had  none, 
but  Moll  Dawson  was  his  daughter,  who  was  a  most 
sprightly,  merry  little  wench,  but  no  miracle  for  beauty, 
being  neither  child  nor  woman  at  this  time;  surprisingly 
thin,  as  if  her  frame  had  grown  out  of  proportion  with  her 
flesh,  so  that  her  body  looked  all  arms  and  legs,  and  her 
head  all  mouth  and  eyes,  with  a  great  towzled  mass  of 
chestnut  hair,  which  (off  the  stage)  was  as  often  as  not  half 
tumbled  over  her  shoulder.  But  a  quicker  little  baggage 
at  mimicry  (she  would  play  any  part,  from  an  urchin  of  ten 
to  a  crone  of  fourscore),  or  a  livelier  at  dancing  of  Brantles 
or  the  single  Coranto  never  was,  I  do  think,  and  as  merry 
as  a  grig.  Of  Ned  Herring  I  need  only  here  say  that  he 
was  the  most  tearing  villain  imaginable  on  the  stage,  and  off 
it  the  most  civil-spoken,  honest-seeming  young  gentleman. 
Nor  need  I  trouble  to  give  a  very  lengthy  description  of 
myself;  what  my  character  was  will  appear  hereafter,  and 
as  for  my  looks,  the  less  I  say  about  them,  the  better.  Be- 
ing something  of  a  scholar  and  a  poet,  I  had  nearly  died  of 
starvation,  when  Jack  Dawson  gave  me  a  footing  on  the 
stage,  where  I  would  play  the  part  of  a  hero  in  one  act,  a 
lacquey  in  the  second,  and  a  merry  Andrew  in  the  third, 
scraping  a  tune  on  my  fiddle  to  fill  up  the  intermedios. 

We  had  designed  to  return  to  London  as  soon  as  the 
Plague  abated,  unless  we  were  favoured  with  extraordinary 
good  fortune,  and  so,  when  we  heard  that  the  sickness  was 
certainly  past,  and  the  citizens  recovering  of  their  panic, 
we  (being  by  this  time  heartily  sick  of  our  venture,  which 
at  the  best  gave  us  but  beggarly  recompense)  set  about  to 
retrace  our  steps  with  cheerful  expectations  of  better  times. 


WE    SET    FIRE    TO    A    BARN.  3 

But  coming  to  Oxford,  we  there  learned  that  a  prodigious 
fire  had  burnt  all  London  down,  from  the  Tower  to  Lud- 
gate,  so  that  if  we  were  there,  we  should  find  no  house  to 
play  in.  This  lay  us  flat  in  our  hopes,  and  set  us  again 
to  our  vagabond  enterprise;  and  so  for  six  months  more 
we  scoured  the  country  in  a  most  miserable  plight,  the 
roads  being  exceedingly  foul,  and  folks  more  humoured  of 
nights  to  drowse  in  their  chimnies  than  to  sit  in  a  draughty 
barn  and  witness  our  performances;  and  then,  about  the 
middle  of  February  we,  in  a  kind  of  desperation,  got  back 
again  to  London,  only  to  find  that  we  must  go  forth  again, 
the  town  still  lying  in  ruins,  and  no  one  disposed  to  any 
kind  of  amusement,  except  in  high  places,  where  such 
actors  as  we  were  held  in  contempt.  So  we,  with  our 
hearts  in  our  boots,  as  one  may  say,  set  out  again  to  seek 
our  fortunes  on  the  Cambridge  road,  and  here,  with  no 
better  luck  than  elsewhere,  for  at  Tottenham  Cross  we  had 
the  mischance  to  set  fire  to  the  barn  wherein  we  were  play- 
ing, by  a  candle  falling  in  some  loose  straw,  whereby  we 
did  injury  to  the  extent  of  some  shilling  or  two,  for  which 
the  farmer  would  have  us  pay  a  pound,  and  Jack  Dawson 
stoutly  refusing  to  satisfy  his  demand  he  sends  for  the  con- 
stable, who  locks  us  all  up  in  the  cage  that  night,  to  take 
us  before  the  magistrate  in  the  morning.  And  we  found 
to  our  cost  that  this  magistrate  had  as  little  justice  as 
mercy  in  his  composition  ;  for  though  he  lent  a  patient  ear 
to  the  farmer's  case,  he  would  not  listen  to  Jack  Dawson' s 
argument,  which  was  good  enough,  being  to  the  effect  that 
we  had  not  as  much  as  a  pound  amongst  us,  and  that  he 
would  rather  be  hanged  than  pay  it  if  he  had;  and  when 
Ned  Herring  (seeing  the  kind  of  Puritanical  fellow  he  was) 


4  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

urged  that,  since  the  damage  was  not  done  by  any  design 
of  ours,  it  must  be  regarded  as  a  visitation  of  Providence, 
he  says :  "  Very  good.  If  it  be  the  will  of  Providence  that 
one  should  be  scourged,  I  take  it  as  the  Divine  purpose 
that  I  should  finish  the  business  by  scourging  the  other"; 
and  therewith  he  orders  the  constable  to  take  what  money 
we  have  from  our  pockets  and  clap  us  in  the  stocks  till  sun- 
down for  payment  of  the  difference.  So  in  the  stocks  we 
three  poor  men  were  stuck  for  six  mortal  hours,  which  was 
a  wicked,  cruel  thing  indeed,  with  the  wind  blowing  a  sort 
of  rainy  snow  about  our  ears;  and  there  I  do  think  we  must 
have  perished  of  cold  and  vexation  but  that  our  little  Moll 
brought  us  a  sheet  for  a  cover,  and  tired  not  in  giving  us 
kind  words  of  comfort. 

At  five  o'clock  the  constable  unlocked  us  from  our  vile 
confinement,  and  I  do  believe  we  should  have  fallen  upon 
him  and  done  him  a  mischief  for  his  pains  there  and  then, 
but  that  we  were  all  frozen  as  stiff  as  stones  with  sitting  in 
the  cold  so  long,  and  indeed  it  was  some  time  ere  we  could 
move  our  limbs  at  all.  However,  with  much  ado,  we 
hobbled  on  at  the  tail  of  our  cart,  all  three  very  bitter,  but 
especially  Ned  Herring,  who  cursed  most  horridly  and  as  I 
had  never  heard  him  curse  off  the  stage,  saying  he  would 
rather  have  stayed  in  London  to  carry  links  for  the  gentry 
than  join  us  again  in  this  damnable  adventure,  etc.  And 
that  which  incensed  him  the  more  was  the  merriment  of 
our  Moll,  who,  seated  on  the  side  of  the  cart,  could  do 
nothing  better  than  make  sport  of  our  discontent.  But  there 
was  no  malice  in  her  laughter,  which,  if  it  sprang  not  from 
sheer  love  of  mischief,  arose  maybe  from  overflowing  joy 
at  our  release. 


VERY    MERRY    AT    EDMONTON.  5 

Coming  at  dusk  to  Edmonton,  and  finding  a  fine  new 
inn  there,  called  the  "Bell,"  Jack  Dawson  leads  the  cart 
into  the  yard,  we  following  without  a  word  of  demur,  and, 
after  putting  up  our  trap,  into  the  warm  parlour  we  go,  and 
call  for  supper  as  boldly  as  you  please.  Then,  when  we 
had  eaten  and  drunk  till  we  could  no  more,  all  to  bed  like 
princes,  which,  after  a  night  in  the  cage  and  a  day  in  the 
stocks,  did  seem  like  a  very  paradise.  But  how  we  were 
to  pay  for  this  entertainment  not  one  9f  us  knew,  nor  did 
we  greatly  care,  being  made  quite  reckless  by  our  necessi- 
ties. It  was  the  next  morning,  when  we  met  together  at 
breakfast,  that  our  faces  betrayed  some  compunctions;  but 
these  did  not  prevent  us  eating  prodigiously.  "  For,"  whis- 
pers Ned  Herring,  "  if  we  are  to  be  hanged,  it  may  as  well 
be  for  a  sheep  as  a  lamb."  However,  Jack  Dawson,  get- 
ting on  the  right  side  of  the  landlord,  who  seemed  a  very 
honest,  decent  man  for  an  innkeeper,  agreed  with  him  that 
we  should  give  a  performance  that  night  in  a  cart-shed  very 
proper  to  our  purpose,  giving  him  half  of  our  taking  in 
payment  of  our  entertainment.  This  did  Jack,  thinking 
from  our  late  ill-luck  we  should  get  at  the  most  a  dozen 
people  in  the  sixpenny  benches,  and  a  score  standing  at 
twopence  a  head.  But  it  turned  out,  as  the  cunning  land- 
lord had  foreseen,  that  our  hanger  was  packed  close  to 
the  very  door,  in  consequence  of  great  numbers  coming  to 
the  town  in  the  afternoon  to  see  a  bull  baited,  so  that  when 
Jack  Dawson  closed  the  doors  and  came  behind  our  scene 
to  dress  for  his  part,  he  told  us  he  had  as  good  as  five 
pounds  in  his  pocket.  With  that  to  cheer  us  we  played 
our  tragedy  of  "The  Broken  Heart "  very  merrily,  and  after 
that,  changing  our  dresses  in  a  twinkling,  Jack  Dawson, 


O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

disguised  as  a  wild  man,  and  Moll  as  a  wood  nymph,  came 
on  to  the  stage  to  dance  a  pastoral,  whilst  I,  in  the  fashion 
of  a  satyr,  stood  on  one  side  plying  the  fiddle  to  their  foot- 
ing. Then,  all  being  done,  Jack  thanks  the  company  for 
their  indulgence,  and  bids  'em  good-night. 

And  now,  before  all  the  company  are  yet  out  of  the 
place,  and  while  Jack  Dawson  is  wiping  the  sweat  from 
his  face,  comes  the  landlord,  and  asks  pretty  bluntly  to  be 
paid  his  share  of  our  earnings. 

"Well,"  says  Jack,  in  a  huff,  "I  see  no  reason  for  any 
such  haste;  but  if  you  will  give  me  time  to  put  on  my 
breeches,  you  shall  be  paid  all  the  same."  And  therewith 
he  takes  down  his  trunks  from  the  nail  where  they  hung. 
And  first  giving  them  a  doubtful  shake,  as  seeming  lighter 
than  he  expected,  and  hearing  no  chink  of  money,  he 
thrusts  his  hand  into  one  pocket,  and  then  into  the  other, 
and  cries  in  dismay:  "Heaven's  mercy  upon  us;  we  are 
robbed !  Every  penny  of  our  money  is  gone !  " 

"  Can  you  think  of  nothing  better  than  such  an  idle  story 
as  that?"  says  the  landlord.  "There  hath  been  none  be- 
hind this  sheet  but  yourselves  all  the  night." 

We  could  make  no  reply  to  this,  but  stood  gaping  at  each 
other  in  a  maze  for  some  seconds;  then  Jack  Dawson,  re- 
covering his  wits,  turns  him  round,  and  looking  about, 
cries:  "Why,  where's  Ned  Herring?" 

"If  you  mean  him  as  was  killed  in  your  play,"  says  the 
landlord,  "I'll  answer  for  it  he's  not  far  off;  for,  to  my 
knowledge,  he  was  in  the  house  drinking  with  a  man  while 
you  were  a-dancing  of  your  antics  like  a  fool.  And  I  only 
hope  you  may  be  as  honest  a  man  as  he,  for  he  paid  for 
his  liquor  like  a  gentleman." 


SCURVY    BEHAVIOUR    OF    NED    HERRING.  / 

That  settled  the  question,  for  we  knew  the  constable  had 
left  never  a  penny  in  his  pocket  when  he  clapt  us  in  the 
stocks. 

"Well,"  says  Jack,  "he  has  our  money,  as  you  may 
prove  by  searching  us,  and  if  you  have  faith  in  him  'tis  all 
as  one,  and  you  may  rest  easy  for  your  reckoning  being 
paid  against  his  return." 

The  landlord  went  off,  vowing  he  would  take  the  law  of 
us  if  he  were  not  paid  by  the  morning;  and  we,  as  soon 
as  we  had  shuffled  on  our  clothes,  away  to  hunt  for  Ned, 
thinking  that  maybe  he  had  made  off  with  the  money  to 
avoid  paying  half  to  the  landlord,  and  hoping  always  that, 
though  he  might  play  the  rogue  with  him,  he  would  deal 
honestly  by  us.  But  we  could  find  no  trace  of  him,  though 
we  visited  every  alehouse  in  the  town,  and  so  back  we  go, 
crestfallen,  to  the  Bell,  to  beg  the  innkeeper  to  give  us  a 
night's  lodging  and  a  crust  of  bread  on  the  speculation 
that  Ned  would  come  back  and  settle  our  accounts;  but  he 
would  not  listen  to  our  prayers,  and  so,  hungry  and  thirsty, 
and  miserable  beyond  expression,  we  were  fain  to  make 
up  with  a  loft  over  the  stables,  where,  thanks  to  a  good 
store  of  sweet  hay,  we  soon  forgot  our  troubles  in  sleep, 
but  not  before  we  had  concerted  to  get  away  in  the  morn- 
ing betimes  to  escape  another  day  in  the  stocks. 

Accordingly,  before  the  break  of  day,  we  were  afoot, 
and  after  noiselessly  packing  our  effects  in  the  cart  in  the 
misty  grey  light,  Jack  Dawson  goes  in  the  stable  to  harness 
our  nag,  while  I  as  silently  take  down  the  heavy  bar  that 
fastened  the  yard  gate.  But  while  I  was  yet  fumbling  at 
the  bolts,  and  all  of  a  shake  for  fear  of  being  caught  in  the 
act,  Jack  Dawson  comes  to  me,  with  Moll  holding  of  his 


5  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

hand,  as  she  would  when  our  troubles  were  great,  and  says 
in  a  tone  of  despair : 

"  Give  over,  Kit.  We  are  all  undone  again.  For  our 
harness  is  stole,  and  there's  never  another  I  can  take  in  its 
place." 

While  we  were  at  this  stumble,  out  comes  our  landlord 
to  make  sport  of  us.  "  Have  you  found  your  money  yet, 
friends?  "  says  he,  with  a  sneer. 

"No,"  says  Jack,  savagely,  "and  our  money  is  not  all 
that  we  have  lost,  for  some  villain  has  filched  our  nag's 
harness,  and  I  warrant  you  know  who  he  is." 

"Why,  to  be  sure,"  returns  the  other,  "the  same  friend 
may  have  taken  it  who  has  gone  astray  with  your  other 
belongings;  but,  be  that  as  it  may,  I'll  answer  for  it  when 
your  money  is  found  your  harness  will  be  forthcoming,  and 
not  before." 

"Come,  Master,"  says  I,  "have  you  no  more  heart  than 
to  make  merry  at  the  mischances  of  three  poor  wretches 
such  as  we?  " 

"Aye,"  says  he,  "when  you  can  show  that  you  deserve 
better  treatment." 

"Done,"  says  Jack.  "I'll  show  you  that  as  quickly  as 
you  please."  With  that  he  whips  off  his  cap,  and  flinging 
it  on  the  ground,  cries:  "Off  with  your  jacket,  man,  and 
let  us  prove  by  such  means  as  Heaven  has  given  all  which 
is  the  honester  of  us  two.  And  so  he  squares  himself  up 
to  fight;  but  the  innkeeper,  though  as  big  a  man  as  he,  be- 
ing of  a  spongy  constitution,  showed  no  relish  for  this 
mode  of  argument,  and  turning  his  back  on  us  with  a  shake 
of  the  head,  said  he  was  very  well  satisfied  of  his  own  hon- 
esty, and  if  we  doubted  it  we  could  seek  what  satisfaction 


GO    A-BEGGING    IN    ALEHOUSES.  9 

the  law  would  give  us,  adding  slyly,  as  he  turned  at  the 
door,  that  he  could  recommend  us  a  magistrate  of  his  ac- 
quaintance, naming  him  who  had  set  us  in  the  stocks  at 
Tottenham  Cross. 

The  very  hint  of  this  put  us  again  in  a  quake,  and  now, 
the  snow  beginning  to  fall  pretty  heavily,  we  went  into 
the  shed  to  cast  about  as  to  what  on  earth  we  should  do 
next.  There  we  sat,  glum  and  silent,  watching  idly  the 
big  flakes  of  snow  fluttering  down  from  the  leaden  sky,  for 
not  one  of  us  could  imagine  a  way  out  of  this  hobble. 

"Holy  Mother!"  cries  Jack  at  length,  springing  up  in 
a  passion,  "  we  cannot  sit  here  and  starve  of  cold  and  hun- 
ger. Cuddle  up  to  my  arm,  Moll,  and  do  you  bring  your 
fiddle,  Kit,  and  let  us  try  our  luck  a-begging  in  alehouses." 

And  so  we  trudged  out  into  the  driving  snow,  that 
blinded  us  as  we  walked,  bow  our  heads  as  we  might,  and 
tried  one  alehouse  after  the  other,  but  all  to  no  purpose, 
the  parlours  being  empty  because  of  the  early  hour,  and 
the  snow  keeping  folks  within  doors;  only,  about  midday, 
some  carters,  who  had  pulled  up  at  an  inn,  took  pity  on  us, 
and  gave  us  a  mug  of  penny  ale  and  half  a  loaf,  and  that 
was  all  the  food  we  had  the  whole  miserable  day.  Then 
at  dusk,  wet-footed  and  fagged  out  in  mind  and  body,  we 
trudged  back  to  the  Bell,  thinking  to  get  back  into  the  loft 
and  bury  ourselves  in  the  sweet  hay  for  warmth  and  com- 
fort. But  coming  hither,  we  found  our  nag  turned  out  of 
the  stable  and  the  door  locked,  so  that  we  were  thrown 
quite  into  despair  by  the  loss  of  this  last  poor  hope,  and 
poor  Moll,  turning  her  face  away  from  us,  burst  out  a- 
crying  —  she  who  all  day  had  set  us  a  brave  example  by 
her  cheerful  merry  spirit. 


CHAPTER   II. 

Of  our  first  acquaintance  with  the  Senor  Don  Sanchez  del  Castillo  de 
Castelana,  and  his  brave  entertaining  of  us. 

I  WAS  taking  a  turn  or  two  outside  the  shed,  —  for  the 
sight  of  Jack  Dawson  hugging  poor  Moll  to  his  breast  and 
trying  to  soothe  her  bodily  misery  with  gentle  words  was 
more  than  I  could  bear, — when  a  drawer  coming  across 
from  the  inn  told  me  that  a  gentleman  in  the  Cherry  room 
would  have  us  come  to  him.  I  gave  him  a  civil  answer 
and  carried  this  message  to  my  friends.  Moll,  who  had 
staunched  her  tears  and  was  smiling  piteously,  though  her 
sobs,  like  those  of  a  child,  still  shook  her  thin  frame,  and 
her  father  both  looked  at  me  in  blank  doubt  as  fearing 
some  trap  for  our  further  discomfiture. 

"Nay,"  says  Jack,  stoutly.  "Fate  can  serve  us  no  worse 
within  doors  than  without,  so  let  us  in  and  face  this  gentle- 
man, whoever  he  is." 

So  in  we  go,  and  all  sodden  and  bedrabbled  as  we  were, 
went  to  follow  the  drawer  upstairs,  when  the  landlady  cried 
out  she  would  not  have  us  go  into  her  Cherry  room  in  that 
pickle,  to  soil  her  best  furniture  and  disgrace  her  house,  and 
bade  the  fellow  carry  us  into  the  kitchen  to  take  off  our 
cloaks  and  change  our  boots  for  slip-shoes,  adding  that  if 
we  had  any  respect  for  ourselves,  we  should  trim  our  hair 
and  wash  the  grime  off  our  faces.  So  we  enter  the  kitchen, 
nothing  loath,  where  a  couple  of  pullets  browning  on  the 

10 


SURPRISING    GOOD    FORTUNE.  II 

spit,  kettles  bubbling  on  the  fire,  and  a  pasty  drawing  from 
the  oven,  filled  the  air  with  delicious  odours  that  nearly 
drove  us  mad  for  envy ;  and  to  think  that  these  good 
things  were  to  tempt  the  appetite  of  some  one  who  never 
hungered,  while  we,  famishing  for  want,  had  not  even  a  crust 
to  appease  our  cravings  !  But  it  was  some  comfort  to 
plunge  our  blue,  numbed  fingers  into  a  tub  of  hot  water  and 
feel  the  life  blood  creeping  back  into  our  hearts.  The 
paint  we  had  put  on  our  cheeks  the  night  before  was 
streaked  all  over  our  faces  by  the  snow,  so  that  we  did  look 
the  veriest  scarecrows  imaginable ;  but  after  washing  our 
heads  well  and  stroking  our  hair  into  order  with  a  comb 
Mistress  Cook  lent  us,  we  looked  not  so  bad.  And  thus 
changed,  and  with  dry  shoes  to  our  feet,  we  at  length  went 
upstairs,  all  full  of  wondering  expectation,  and  were  led  into 
the  Cherry  room,  which  seemed  to  us  a  very  palace,  being 
lit  with  half  a  dozen  candles  (and  they  of  wax)  and  filled 
with  a  warm  glow  by  the  blazing  logs  on  the  hearth  reflected 
in  the  cherry  hangings.  And  there  in  the  midst  was  a  table 
laid  for  supper  with  a  wondrous  white  cloth,  glasses  to  drink 
from,  and  silver  forks  all  set  out  most  bravely. 

"  His  worship  will  be  down  ere  long,"  says  the  drawer, 
and  with  that  he  makes  a  pretence  of  building  up  the  fire, 
being  warned  thereto  very  like  by  the  landlady,  with  an  eye 
to  the  safety  of  her  silver. 

"Can  you  tell  me  his  worship's  name,  friend  ?  "  I  whispered, 
my  mind  turning  at  once  to  his  worship  of  Tottenham 
Cross. 

"  Not  I,  were  you  to  pay  me,"  says  he.  "  'Tis  that  out- 
landish and  uncommon.  But  for  sure  he  is  some  great 
foreign  grandee." 


12  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

He  could  tell  us  no  more,  so  we  stood  there  all  together, 
wondering,  till  presently  the  door  opens,  and  a  tall,  lean 
gentleman  enters,  with  a  high  front,  very  finely  dressed  in 
linen  stockings,  a  long-waisted  coat,  and  embroidered  waist- 
coat, and  rich  lace  at  his  cuffs  and  throat.  He  wore  no 
peruke,  but  his  own  hair,  cut  quite  close  to  his  head,  with  a 
pointed  beard  and  a  pair  of  long  moustachios  twisting  up 
almost  to  his  ears ;  but  his  appearance  was  the  more 
striking  by  reason  of  his  beard  and  moustachios  being  quite 
black,  while  the  hair  on  his  head  was  white  as  silver.  He 
had  dark  brows  also,  that  overhung  very  rich  black  eyes ; 
his  nose  was  long  and  hooked,  and  his  skin,  which  was  of  a 
very  dark  complexion,  was  closely  lined  with  wrinkles  about 
the  eyes,  while  a  deep  furrow  lay  betwixt  his  brows.  He 
carried  his  head  very  high,  and  was  majestic  and  gracious 
in  all  his  movements,  not  one  of  which  (as  it  seemed  to 
me)  was  made  but  of  forethought  and  purpose.  I  should 
say  his  age  was  about  sixty,  though  his  step  and  carriage 
were  of  a  younger  man.  To  my  eyes  he  appeared  a  very 
handsome  and  a  pleasing,  amiable  gentleman.  But,  Lord, 
what  can  you  conclude  of  a  man  at  a  single  glance,  when 
every  line  in  his  face  (of  which  he  had  a  score  and  more) 
has  each  its  history  of  varying  passions,  known  only  to 
himself,  and  secret  phases  of  his  life  ! 

He  saluted  us  with  a  most  noble  bow,  and  dismissed  the 
drawer  with  a  word  in  an  undertone.  Then  turning  again 
to  us,  he  said  :  "  I  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  act  last 
night,  and  dance,"  he  adds  with  a  slight  inclination  of  his 
head  to  Moll.  "Naturally,  I  wish  to  be  better  acquainted 
with  you.  Will  it  please  you  to  dine  with  me? " 

I  could  not  have  been  more  dumbfounded  had  an  angel 


ENTERTAINED    LIKE    PRINCES.  13 

asked  me  to  step  into  heaven ;  but  Dawson  was  quick 
enough  to  say  something. 

"  That  will  we,"  cries  he,  "  and  God  bless  your  worship  for 
taking  pity  on  us,  for  I  doubt  not  you  have  heard  of  our 
troubles." 

The  other  bowed  his  head  and  set  a  chair  at  the  end  of 
the  table  for  Moll,  which  she  took  with  a  pretty  curtsey,  but 
saying  never  a  word,  for  glee  did  seem  to  choke  us  all. 
And  being  seated,  she  cast  her  eyes  on  the  bread  hungrily, 
as  if  she  would  fain  begin  at  once,  but  she  had  the  good 
manners  to  restrain  herself.  Then  his  worship  (as  we  called 
him),  having  shown  us  the  chairs  on  either  side,  seated 
himself  last  of  all,  at  the  head  of  the  table,  facing  our  Moll, 
whom  whenever  he  might  without  discourtesy,  he  regarded 
with  most  scrutinising  glances  from  first  to  last.  Then  the 
door  flinging  open,  two  drawers  brought  in  those  same  fat 
pullets  we  had  seen  browning  before  the  fire,  and  also  the 
pasty,  with  abundance  of  other  good  cheer,  at  which  Moll, 
with  a  little  cry  of  delight,  whispers  to  me  : 

"  'Tis  like  a  dream.  Do  speak  to  me,  Kit,  or  I  must  think 
'twill  all  fade  away  presently  and  leave  us  in  the  snow." 

Then  I,  finding  my  tongue,  begged  his  worship  would 
pardon  us  if  our  manners  were  more  uncouth  than  the 
society  to  which  he  was  accustomed. 

"  Nay,"  says  Dawson.  "  Your  worship  will  like  us  none 
the  worse,  I  warrant,  for  seeing  what  we  are  and  aping  none." 

Finding  himself  thus  beworshipped  on  both  hands,  our 
good  friend  says  : 

"  You  may  call  me  Sefior.  I  am  a  Spaniard.  Don 
Sanchez  del  Castillo  de  Castelana."  And  then  to  turn  the 
subject,  he  adds  :  "  I  have  seen  you  play  twice." 


14  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"  Aye,  Senor,  and  I  should  have  known  you  again  if  by 
nothing  but  this  piece  of  generosity,"  replies  Dawson,  with 
his  cheek  full  of  pasty,  "  for  I  remember  both  times  you  set 
down  a  piece  and  would  take  no  change." 

Don  Sanchez  hunched  his  shoulders  cavalierly,  as  if  such 
trifles  were  nought  to  him  ;  but  indeed  throughout  his  man- 
ner was  most  high  and  noble. 

And  now,  being  fairly  settled  down  to  our  repast,  we  said 
no  more  of  any  moment  that  I  can  recall  to  mind  till  we 
had  done  (which  was  not  until  nought  remained  of  the 
pullets  and  the  pasty  but  a  few  bones  and  the  bare  dish), 
and  we  were  drawn  round  the  fire  at  Don  Sanchez's 
invitation.  Then  the  drawers,  having  cleared  the  tables, 
brought  up  a  huge  bowl  of  hot  spiced  wine,  a  dish  of 
tobacco,  and  some  pipes.  The  Don  then  offered  us  to 
smoke  some  cigarros,  but  we,  not  understanding  them,  took 
instead  our  homely  pipes,  and  each  with  a  beaker  of  hot 
wine  to  his  hand  sat  roasting  before  the  fire,  scarce  saying  a 
word,  the  Don  being  silent  because  his  humour  was  of  the  re- 
flective grave  kind  (with  all  his  courtesies  he  never  smiled, 
as  if  such  demonstrations  were  unbecoming  to  his  dignity), 
and  we  from  repletion  and  a  feeling  of  wondrous  content- 
ment and  repose.  And  another  thing  served  to  keep  us  still, 
which  was  that  our  Moll,  sitting  beside  her  father,  almost  at 
once  fell  asleep,  her  head  lying  against  his  shoulder  as  he 
sat  with  his  arm  about  her  waist.  As  at  the  table,  Don 
Sanchez  had  seated  himself  where  he  could  best  observe  her, 
and  now  he  scarcely  once  took  his  eyes  off  her,  which  were 
half  closed  as  if  in  speculation.  At  length,  taking  the  cigarro 
from  his  lips,  he  says  softly  to  Jack  Dawson,  so  .as  not  to 
arouse  Moll : 


"WHAT    WILL    BECOME    OF    HER?"  15 

"  Your  daughter." 

Jack  nods  for  an  answer,  and  looking  down  on  her  face 
with  pride  and  tenderness,  he  put  back  with  the  stem  of  his 
pipe  a  little  curl  that  had  strayed  over  her  eyes.  She  was 
not  amiss  for  looks  thus,  with  her  long  eyelashes  lying  like 
a  fringe  upon  her  cheeks,  her  lips  open,  showing  her  good 
white  teeth,  and  the  glow  of  the  firelight  upon  her  face ; 
but  her  attitude  and  the  innocent,  happy  expression  of  her 
features  made  up  a  picture  which  seemed  to  me  mighty 
pretty. 

"Where  is  her  mother?"  asks  Don  Sanchez,  presently ; 
and  Dawson,  without  taking  his  eyes  from  Moll's  face,  lifts 
his  pipe  upwards,  while  his  big  thick  lips  fell  a- trembling. 
Maybe,  he  was  thinking  of  his  poor  Betty  as  he  looked  at 
the  child's  face. 

"Has  she  no  other  relatives?"  asks  the  Don,  in  the 
same  quiet  tone ;  and  Jack  shakes  his  head,  still  looking 
down,  and  answers  lowly  : 

"  Only  me." 

Then  after  another  pause  the  Don  asks : 

"  What  will  become  of  her?  " 

And  that  thought  also  must  have  been  in  Jack  Davvson's 
mind  ;  for  without  seeming  surprised  by  the  question,  which 
appeared  a  strange  one,  he  answers  reverently,  but  with 
a  shake  in  his  hoarse  voice,  "  Almighty  God  knows." 

This  stilled  us  all  for  the  moment,  and  then  Don  Sanchez, 
seeing  that  these  reflections  threw  a  gloom  upon  us,  turned 
to  me,  sitting  next  him,  and  asked  if  I  would  give  him  some 
account  of  my  history,  whereupon  I  briefly  told  him  how 
three  years  ago  Jack  Dawson  had  lifted  me  out  of  the  mire, 
and  how  since  then  we  had  lived  in  brotherhood.  "And," 


l6  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

says  I  in  conclusion,  "  we  will  continue  with  the  favour  of 
Providence  to  live  so,  sharing  good  and  ill  fortune  alike  to 
the  end,  so  much  we  do  love  one  another." 

To  this  Jack  Dawson  nods  assent. 

"And  your  other  fellow,  —  what  of  him?"  asked  Don 
Sanchez. 

I  replied  that  Ned  Herring  was  but  a  fair-weather  friend, 
who  had  joined  fortunes  with  us  to  get  out  of  London  and 
escape  the  Plague,  and  how  having  robbed  us,  we  were  like 
never  to  see  his  face  again. 

"And  well  for  him  if  we  do  not,"  cries  Dawson,  rousing 
up  •  "  for  by  the  Lord,  if  I  clap  eyes  on  him,  though  it  be  a 
score  of  years  hence,  he  shan't  escape  the  most  horrid  beating 
ever  man  outlived  !  " 

The  Don  nodded  his  satisfaction  at  this,  and  then  Moll, 
awaking  with  the  sudden  outburst  of  her  father's  voice,  gives 
first  a  gape,  then  a  shiver,  and  looking  about  her  with  an  air 
of  wonder,  smiles  as  her  eye  fell  on  the  Don.  Whereon, 
still  as  solemn  as  any  judge,  he  pulls  the  bell,  and  the  maid, 
coming  to  the  room  with  a  rushlight,  he  bids  her  take  the 
poor  weary  child  to  bed,  and  the  best  there  is  in  the  house, 
which  I  think  did  delight  Dawson  not  less  than  his  Moll  to 
hear. 

Then  Moll  gives  her  father  a  kiss,  and  me  another 
according  to  her  wont,  and  drops  a  civil  curtsey  to  Don 
Sanchez. 

"  Give  me  thy  hand,  child,"  says  he ;  and  having  it,  he 
lifts  it  to  his  lips  and  kisses  it  as  if  she  had  been  the  finest 
lady  in  the  land. 

She  being  gone,  the  Don  calls  for  a  second  bowl  of  spiced 
wine,  and  we,  mightily  pleased  at  the  prospect  of  another 


WELL    PRIMED.  \J 

half-hour  of  comfort,  stretch  our  legs  out  afresh  before  the 
fire.  Then  Don  Sanchez,  lighting  another  cigarro,  and  setting 
his  chair  towards  us,  says  as  he  takes  his  knee  up  betwixt 
his  long,  thin  fingers  : 

"  Now  let  us  come  to  the  heart  of  this  business  and  under- 
stand one  another  clearly." 


CHAPTER  III. 

Of  that  design  which  Don  Sanchez  opened  to  us  at  the  BelL 

WE  pulled  our  pipes  from  our  mouths,  Dawson  and  I,  and 
stretched  our  ears  very  eager  to  know  what  this  business 
was  the  Don  had  to  propound,  and  he,  after  drawing  two  or 
three  mouthfuls  of  smoke,  which  he  expelled  through  his 
nostrils  in  a  most  surprising  unnatural  manner,  says  in 
excellent  good  English,  but  speaking  mighty  slow  and 
giving  every  letter  its  worth  : 

"  What  do  you  go  to  do  to-morrow?  " 

"  The  Lord  only  knows,"  answers  Jack,  and  Don  Sanchez, 
lifting  his  eyebrows  as  if  he  considers  this  no  answer  at  all, 
he  continues :  "  We  cannot  go  hence  without  our  stage 
things ;  and  if  we  could,  I  see  not  how  we  are  to  act  our 
play,  now  that  our  villain  is  gone,  with  a  plague  to  him  !  I 
doubt  but  we  must  sell  all  that  we  have  for  the  few  shillings 
they  will  fetch  to  get  us  out  of  this  hobble." 

"  With  our  landlord's  permission,"  remarks  Don  Sanchez, 
dryly. 

"  Permission  !  "  cries  Dawson,  in  a  passion.  "  I  ask  no 
man's  permission  to  do  what  I  please  with  my  own." 

"  Suppose  he  claims  these  things  in  payment  of  the  money 
you  owe  him.  What  then?  "  asks  the  Don. 

"  We  never  thought  of  that,  Kit,"  says  Dawson,  turning 
to  me  in  a  pucker.  "  But  'tis  likely  enough  he  has,  for  I 
observed  he  was  mighty  careless  whether  we  found  our  thief 

18 


VERY  PROPERLY  REPROVED.  IQ 

or  not.  That's  it,  sure  enough.  We  have  nought  to  hope. 
All's  lost !  " 

With  that  he  drops  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  and  stares 
into  the  fire  with  a  most  desponding  countenance,  being  in 
that  stage  of  liquor  when  a  man  must  either  laugh  or  weep. 

"Come,  Jack,"  says  I.  "You  are  not  used  to  yield  like 
this.  Let  us  make  the  best  of  a  bad  lot,  and  face  the  worst 
like  men.  Though  we  trudge  hence  with  nothing  but  the 
rags  on  our  backs,  we  shall  be  no  worse  off  to-morrow  than 
we  were  this  morning." 

"Why,  that's  true  enough!"  cries  he,  plucking  up  his 
courage.  "  Let  the  thieving  rascal  take  our  poor  nag  and 
our  things  for  his  payment,  and  much  good  may  they  do  him. 
We  will  wipe  this  out  of  our  memory  the  moment  we  leave 
his  cursed  inn  behind  us." 

It  seemed  to  me  that  this  would  not  greatly  advance  us, 
and  maybe  Don  Sanchez  thought  the  same,  for  he  presently 
asks : 

"And  what  then?" 

"Why,  Sefior,"  replies  Dawson,  "we  will  face  each  new 
buffet  as  it  comes,  and  make  a  good  fight  of  it  till  we're 
beat.  A  man  may  die  but  once." 

"You  think  only  of  yourselves,"  says  the  Don,  very 
quietly. 

"  And  pray,  saving  your  Sefior's  presence,  who  else  should 
we  think  of  ?  " 

"  The  child  above,"  answers  the  Don,  a  little  more  sternly 
than  he  had  yet  spoken.  "  Is  a  young  creature  like  that  to 
bear  the  buffets  you  are  so  bold  to  meet?  Can  you  offer 
her  no  shelter  from  the  wind  and  rain  but  such  as  chance 
offers?  make  no  provision  for  the  time  when  she  is  left  alone, 


2O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

to  protect  her  against  the  evils  that  lie  in  the  path  of  friend- 
less maids?" 

"  God  forgive  me,"  says  Jack,  humbly.  And  then  we 
could  say  nothing,  for  thinking  what  might  befall  Moll  if 
we  should  be  parted,  but  sat  there  under  the  keen  eye  of 
Don  Sanchez,  looking  helplessly  into  the  fire.  And  there 
was  no  sound  until  Jack's  pipe,  slipping  from  his  hand,  fell 
and  broke  in  pieces  upon  the  hearth.  Then  rousing  himself 
up  and  turning  to  Don  Sanchez,  he  says : 

"  The  Lord  help  her,  Sefior,  if  we  find  no  good  friend  to 
lend  us  a  few  shillings  for  our  present  wants." 

"Good  friends  are  few,"  says  the  Don,  "and  they  who 
lend  need  some  better  security  for  repayment  than  chance. 
For  my  own  part,  I  would  as  soon  fling  straws  to  a  drowning 
man  as  attempt  to  save  you  and  that  child  from  ruin  by  set- 
ting you  on  your  feet  to-day  only  to  fall  again  to-morrow." 

"  If  that  be  so,  Sefior,"  says  I,  "  you  had  some  larger  view 
in  mind  than  that  of  offering  temporary  relief  to  our  misery 
when  you  gave  us  a  supper  and  Moll  a  bed  for  the  night." 

Don  Sanchez  assented  with  a  grave  inclination  of  his 
head,  and  going  to  the  door  opened  it  sharply,  listened 
awhile,  and  then  closing  it  softly,  returned  and  stood  before 
us  with  folded  arms.  Then,  in  a  low  voice,  not  to  be  heard 
beyond  the  room,  he  questioned  us  very  particularly  as  to 
our  relations  with  other  men,  the  length  of  time  we  had 
been  wandering  about  the  country,  and  especially  about  the 
tractability  of  Moll.  And,  being  satisfied  with  our  replies, 
—  above  all,  with  Jack's  saying  that  Moll  would  jump  out 
of  window  at  his  bidding,  without  a  thought  to  the  conse- 
quences, —  he  says : 

"  There's  a  comedy  we  might  play  to  some  advantage  if 


DON    SANCHEZ    OPENS    HIS    SCHEME.  21 

you  were  minded  to  take  the  parts  I  give  you  and  act  them 
as  I  direct." 

"  With  all  my  heart,"  cries  Dawson.  "  I'll  play  any  part 
you  choose  ;  and  as  to  the  directing,  you're  welcome  to  that, 
for  I've  had  my  fill  of  it.  If  you  can  make  terms  with  our 
landlord,  those  things  in  the  yard  shall  be  yours,  and  for  our 
payment  I'm  willing  to  trust  to  your  honour's  generosity." 

"  As  regards  payment,"  says  the  Don,  "  I  can  speak 
precisely.  We  shall  gain  fifty  thousand  pounds  by  our 
performance." 

"  Fifty  thousand  pounds,"  says  Jack,  as  if  in  doubt 
whether  he  had  heard  aright.  Don  Sanchez  bent  his 
head,  without  stirring  a  line  in  his  face. 

Dawson  took  up  his  beaker  slowly,  and  looked  in  it,  to 
make  sure  that  he  was  none  the  worse  for  drink,  then,  after 
emptying  it,  to  steady  his  wits,  he  says  again : 

"Fifty  thousand  pounds." 

"  Fifty  thousand  pounds,  if  not  more ;  and  that  there  be 
no  jealousies  one  of  the  other,  it  shall  be  divided  fairly 
amongst  us,  —  as  much  for  your  friend  as  for  you,  for  the 
child  as  for  me." 

"Pray  God,  this  part  be  no  more  than  I  can  compass," 
says  Jack,  devoutly. 

"  You  may  learn  it  in  a  few  hours  —  at  least,  your  first  act." 

"And  mine?"  says  I,  entering  for  the  first  time  into  the 
dialogue. 

The  Don  hunched  his  shoulders,  lifting  his  eyebrows,  and 
sending  two  streams  of  smoke  from  his  nose. 

"  I  scarce  know  what  part  to  give  you,  yet,"  says  he. 
"  To  be  honest,  you  are  not  wanted  at  all  in  the  play." 

"  Nay,  but  you  must  write  him  a  part,"  says  Dawson, 


22  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

stoutly;  "if  it  be  but  to  bring  in  a  letter  —  that  I  am  deter- 
mined on.  Kit  stood  by  us  in  ill  fortune,  and  he  shall  share 
better,  or  I'll  have  none  of  it,  nor  Moll  neither.  I'll  answer 
for  her." 

"  There  must  be  no  discontent  among  us,"  says  the  Don, 
meaning  thereby,  as  I  think,  that  he  had  included  me  in  his 
stratagem  for  fear  I  might  mar  it  from  envy.  "The  girl's 
part  is  that  which  gives  me  most  concern  —  and  had  I  not 
faith  in  my  own  judgment —  " 

"  Set  your  mind  at  ease  on  that  score,"  cried  Jack.  "  I 
warrant  our  Moll  shall  learn  her  part  in  a  couple  of  days 
or  so." 

"  If  she  learn  it  in  a  twelvemonth,  'twill  be  time  enough." 

"  A  twelvemonth,"  said  Jack,  going  to  his  beaker  again, 
for  understanding.  "  Well,  all's  as  one,  so  that  we  can  get 
something  in  advance  of  our  payment,  to  keep  us  through 
such  a  prodigious  study." 

"I  will  charge  myself  with  your  expenses,"  says  Don 
Sanchez ;  and  then,  turning  to  me,  he  asks  if  I  have  any 
objection  to  urge. 

"  I  take  it,  Senor,  that  you  speak  in  metaphor,"  says  I ; 
"  and  that  this  '  comedy '  is  nought  but  a  stratagem  for 
getting  hold  of  a  fortune  that  doesn't  belong  to  us." 

Don  Sanchez  calmly  assented,  as  if  this  had  been  the 
most  innocent  design  in  the  world. 

"  Hang  me,"  cries  Dawson,  "  if  I  thought  it  was  anything 
but  a  whimsey  of  your  honour's." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  if  we  may  carry  out  this  stratagem 
honestly,"  says  I. 

"  Aye,"  cries  Jack.  "  I'll  not  agree  for  cutting  of  throats 
or  breaking  of  bones,  for  any  money." 


BETWIXT    TWO    FIRES.  23 

"  I  can  tell  you  no  more  than  this,"  says  the  Don.  "The 
fortune  we  may  take  is  now  in  the  hands  of  a  man  who  has 
no  more  right  to  it  than  we  have." 

"  If  that's  so,"  says  Jack,  "I'm  with  you,  Senor.  For  I'd 
as  lief  bustle  a  thief  out  of  his  gains  as  say  my  prayers,  any 
day,  and  liefer." 

"  Still,"  says  I,  "  the  money  must  of  right  belong  to  some 
one." 

"  We  will  say  that  the  money  belongs  to  a  child  of  the 
same  age  as  Moll." 

"Then  it  comes  to  this,  Sefior,"  says  I,  bluntly.  "We 
are  to  rob  that  child  of  fifty  thousand  pounds." 

"  When  you  speak  of  robbing,"  says  the  Don,  drawing 
himself  up  with  much  dignity,  "  you  forget  that  I  am  to 
play  a  part  in  this  stratagem  —  I,  Don  Sanchez  del  Castillo 
de  Castelafia." 

"  Fie,  Kit,  han't  you  any  manners  ?  "  cries  Dick.  "  What's 
all  this  talk  of  a  child?  Hasn't  the  Senor  told  us  we  are 
but  to  bustle  a  cheat?" 

"  But  I  would  know  what  is  to  become  of  this  child,  if 
we  take  her  fortune,  though  it  be  withheld  from  her  by 
another,"  says  I,  being  exceeding  obstinate  and  persistent 
in  my  liquor. 

"  I  shall  prove  to  your  conviction,"  says  the  Don,  "  that 
the  child  will  be  no  worse  off,  if  we  take  this  money,  than 
if  we  leave  it  in  the  hands  of  that  rascally  steward.  But  I 
see,"  adds  he,  contemptuously,  "  that  for  all  your  brotherly 
love,  'tis  no  such  matter  to  you  whether  poor  little  Molly 
comes  to  her  ruin,  as  every  maid  must  who  goes  to  the 
stage,  or  is  set  beyond  the  reach  of  temptation  and  the 
goading  of  want." 


24  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"Aye,  and  be  hanged  to  you,  Kit !"  cries  Dawson. 

"Tell  me,  Mr.  Poet,"  continues  Don  Sanchez,  "do  you 
consider  this  steward  who  defrauds  that  child  of  a  fortune 
is  more  unfeeling  than  you  who,  for  a  sickly  qualm  of 
conscience,  would  let  slip  this  chance  of  making  Molly  an 
honest  woman?  " 

"Aye,  answer  that,  Kit,"  adds  Jack,  striking  his  mug  on 
the  table. 

"  I'll  answer  you  to-morrow  morning,  Senor,"  says  I. 
"  And  whether  I  fall  in  with  the  scheme  or  not  is  all  as  one, 
since  my  help  is  not  needed ;  for  if  it  be  to  Moll's  good,  I'll 
bid  you  farewell,  and  you  shall  see  me  never  again." 

"Spoken  like  a  man  !"  says  Don  Sanchez,  "and  a  wise 
one  to  boot.  An  enterprise  of  this  nature  is  not  to  be 
undertaken  without  reflection,  like  the  smoking  of  a  pipe. 
If  you  put  your  foot  forward,  it  must  be  with  the  under- 
standing that  you  cannot  go  back.  I  must  have  that  assur- 
ance, for  I  shall  be  hundreds  of  pounds  out  of  pocket  ere  I 
can  get  any  return  for  my  venture." 

"  Have  no  fear  of  me  or  of  Moll  turning  tail  at  a  scare- 
crow," says  Jack,  adding  with  a  sneer,  "we  are  no  poets." 

"Reflect  upon  it.  Argue  it  out  with  your  friend  here, 
whose  scruples  do  not  displease  me,  and  let  me  know  your 
determination  when  the  last  word  is  said.  Business  carries 
me  to  London  to-morrow ;  but  you  shall  meet  me  at  night, 
and  we  will  close  the  business  —  aye  or  nay  —  ere  supper." 

With  that  he  opens  the  door  and  gives  us  our  congee, 
the  most  noble  in  the  world ;  but  not  offering  to  give  us  a 
bed,  we  are  forced  to  go  out  of  doors  and  grope  our  way 
through  the  snow  to  the  cart-shed,  and  seek  a  shelter  there 
from  the  wind,  which  was  all  the  keener  and  more  bitter  for 


LIE    ALL    NIGHT    A-DISPUTING.  2$ 

our  leaving  a  good  fire.  And  I  believe  the  shrewd  Spaniard 
had  put  us  to  this  pinch  as  a  foretaste  of  the  misery  we 
must  endure  if  we  rejected  his  design,  and  so  to  shape  our 
inclinations  to  his. 

Happily,  the  landlord,  coming  out  with  a  lantern,  and 
finding  us  by  the  chattering  of  our  teeth,  was  moved  by  the 
consideration  shown  us  by  Don  Sanchez  to  relax  his  sever- 
ity ;  and  so,  unlocking  the  stable  door,  he  bade  us  get  up 
into  the  loft,  which  we  did,  blessing  him  as  if  he  had  been 
the  best  Christian  in  the  world.  And  then,  having  buried 
ourselves  in  hay,  Jack  Dawson  and  I  fell  to  arguing  the 
matter  in  question,  I  sticking  to  my  scruples  (partly  from 
vanity),  and  he  stoutly  holding  t'other  side  ;  and  I,  being 
warmed  by  my  own  eloquence,  and  he  not  less  heated  by 
liquor  (having  taken  best  part  of  the  last  bowl  to  his 
share),  we  ran  it  pretty  high,  so  that  at  one  point  Jack 
was  for  lighting  a  candle  end  he  had  in  his  pocket  and 
fighting  it  out  like  men.  But,  little  by  little,  we  cooled 
down,  and  towards  morning,  each  giving  way  something,  we 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  we  would  have  Don  Sanchez 
show  us  the  steward,  that  we  might  know  the  truth  of  his 
story  (which  I  misdoubted,  seeing  that  it  was  but  a  roguish 
kind  of  game  at  best  that  he  would  have  us  take  part  in), 
and  that  if  we  found  all  things  as  he  represented  them,  then 
we  would  accept  his  offer.  And  also  we  resolved  to  be 
down  betimes  and  let  him  know  our  determination  before 
he  set  out  for  London,  to  the  end  that  we  might  not  be 
left  fasting  all  the  day.  But  herein  we  miscalculated  the 
potency  of  liquor  and  a  comfortable  bed  of  hay,  for  'twas 
nine  o'clock  before  either  of  us  winked  an  eye,  and  when 
we  got  down,  we  learnt  that  Don  Sanchez  had  been  gone  a 


26  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

full  hour,  and  so  no  prospect  of  breaking  our  fast  till  night- 
fall. 

Presently  comes  Moll,  all  fresh  and  pink  from  the  house, 
and  falls  to  exclaiming  upon  the  joy  of  sleeping  betwixt 
clean  sheets  in  a  feather  bed,  and  could  speak  of  nothing 
else,  saying  she  would  give  all  the  world  to  sleep  so  well 
every  day  of  her  life. 

"Eh,"  whispers  her  father  in  my  ear,  "you  see  how 
luxuries  do  tempt  the  poor  child,  and  what  kind  of  a  bed 
she  is  like  to  lie  in  if  our  hopes  miscarry." 

On  which,  still  holding  to  my  scruples,  I  says  to  Moll : 

"  Tis  easy  to  say  you  would  give  the  world,  Moll,  but  I 
know  full  well  you  would  give  nothing  for  all  the  comfort 
possible  that  was  not  your  own." 

"  Nay,"  says  she,  crossing  her  hands  on  her  breast,  and 
casting  up  her  eyes  with  the  look  of  a  saint,  "  what  are  all 
the  fruits  of  the  earth  to  her  who  cannot  take  them  with  an 
easy  conscience  ?  Honesty  is  dearer  to  me  than  the  bread 
of  life." 

Then,  as  Jack  and  I  are  looking  at  each  other  ruefully  in 
the  face  at  this  dash  to  our  knavish  project,  she  bursts  into 
a  merry  peal  of  laughter,  like  a  set  of  Christmas  bells  chiming, 
whereupon  we,  turning  about  to  find  the  cause  of  her  mer- 
riment, she  pulls  another  demure  face,  and,  slowly  lifting  her 
skirt,  shows  us  a  white  napkin  tied  about  her  waist,  stuffed 
with  a  dozen  delicacies  she  had  filched  from  Don  Sanchez's 
table  in  coming  down  from  her  room. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Of  the  several  parts  that  we  are  appointed  to  play. 

FINDING  a  sheltered  secret  corner,  we  made  a  very  hasty 
breakfast  of  these  stolen  dainties,  and  since  we  had  not  the 
heart  to  restore  them  to  our  innkeeper,  so  we  had  not  the 
face  to  chide  Moll  for  her  larceny,  but  made  light  of  the 
business  and  ate  with  great  content  and  some  mirth. 

A  drizzly  rain  falling  and  turning  the  snow  into  slush,  we 
kept  under  the  shelter  of  the  shed,  and  this  giving  us  scope 
for  the  reflection  Don  Sanchez  had  counselled,  my  com- 
punctions were  greatly  shaken  by  the  consideration  of  our 
present  position  and  the  prospect  of  worse.  When  I  thought 
of  our  breakfast  that  Moll  had  stolen,  and  how  willingly  we 
would  all  have  eaten  a  dinner  got  by  the  same  means,  I  had 
to  acknowledge  that  certainly  we  were  all  thieves  at  heart ; 
and  this  conclusion,  together  with  sitting  all  day  doing  noth- 
ing in  the  raw  cold,  did  make  the  design  of  Don  Sanchez 
seem  much  less  heinous  to  me  than  it  appeared  the  night 
before,  when  I  was  warm  and  not  exceedingly  sober,  and 
indeed  towards  dusk  I  came  to  regard  it  as  no  bad  thing 
at  all. 

About  six  comes  back  our  Don  on  a  fine  horse,  and 
receives  our  salutations  with  a  cool  nod  —  we  standing  there 
of  a  row,  looking  our  sweetest,  like  hungry  dogs  in  expecta- 
tion of  a  bone.  Then  in  he  goes  to  the  house  without  a 
word,  and  now  my  worst  fear  was  that  he  had  thought  better 

27 


28  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

of  his  offer  and  would  abandon  it.  So  there  we  hang  about 
the  best  part  of  an  hour,  now  thinking  the  Don  would  pres- 
ently send  for  us,  and  then  growing  to  despair  of  everything 
but  to  be  left  in  the  cold  forgotten ;  but  in  the  end  comes 
Master  Landlord  to  tell  us  his  worship  in  the  Cherry  room 
would  see  us.  So,  after  the  same  formalities  of  cleansing 
ourselves  as  the  night  afore,  upstairs  we  go  at  the  heels  of  a 
drawer,  carrying  a  roast  pig,  which  to  our  senses  was  more 
delightful  than  any  bunch  of  flowers. 

With  a  gesture  of  his  hands,  after  saluting  us  with  great 
dignity,  Don  Sanchez  bade  us  take  our  places  at  the  table 
and  with  never  a  word  of  question  as  to  our  decision ;  but 
that  was  scarce  necessary,  for  it  needed  no  subtle  observa- 
tion to  perceive  that  we  would  accept  any  conditions  to  get 
our  share  of  that  roast  pig.  This  supper  differed  not  greatly 
from  the  former,  save  that  our  Moll  was  taken  with  a  kind 
of  tickling  at  the  throat  which  presently  attracted  our 
notice. 

"What  ails  you,  Molly,  my  dear?"  asks  Jack.  "Has  a 
bit  of  crackling  gone  down  the  wrong  way?" 

She  put  it  off  as  if  she  would  have  us  take  no  notice  of  it, 
but  it  grew  worse  and  worse  towards  the  end  of  the  meal, 
and  became  a  most  horrid,  tearing  cough,  which  she  did  so 
natural  as  to  deceive  us  all  and  put  us  in  great  concern,  and 
especially  Don  Sanchez,  who  declared  she  must  have  taken 
a  cold  by  being  exposed  all  day  to  the  damp  weather. 

"  If  I  have,"  says  she,  very  prettily,  after  wiping  the  tears 
from  her  eyes  upon  another  fit,  "  'tis  surely  a  most  ungrate- 
ful return  for  the  kindness  with  which  you  sheltered  me  last 
night,  Senor." 

"  I  shall  take  better  care  to  shelter  you  in  the  future,  my 


MOLL    BUSTLES    THE    DON.  2Q 

poor  child,"  replies  the  Don,  ringing  the  bell.  Then,  the 
maid  coming,  he  bids  her  warm  a  bed  and  prepare  a  hot 
posset  against  Moll  was  tucked  up  in  the  blankets.  "  And," 
says  he,  turning  to  Moll,  "  you  shall  not  rise  till  noon,  my 
dear ;  your  breakfast  shall  be  brought  to  you  in  your  room, 
where  a  fire  shall  be  made,  and  such  treatment  shown  you 
as  if  you  were  my  own  child." 

"  Oh  !  what  have  I  done  that  you  should  be  so  gentle  to 
me  ?  "  exclaims  Moll,  smothering  another  cough.  And  with 
that  she  reaches  out  her  leg  under  the  table  and  fetches  me 
a  kick  of  the  shin,  looking  all  the  while  as  pitiful  and  inno- 
cent as  any  painted  picture. 

"Would  it  be  well  to  fetch  in  a  doctor?"  says  Don 
Sanchez,  when  Moll  was  gone  barking  upstairs.  "  The  child 
looks  delicate,  though  she  eats  with  a  fairly  good  appetite." 

"  'Tis  nothing  serious,"  replies  Jack,  who  had  doubt- 
less received  the  same  hint  from  Moll  she  had  given  me. 
"  I  warrant  she  will  be  mended  in  a  day  or  so,  with  proper 
care.  'Tis  a  kind  of  family  complaint.  I  am  taken  that 
way  at  times,"  and  with  that  he  rasps  his  throat  as  a  hint 
that  he  would  be  none  the  worse  for  sleeping  a  night 
between  sheets. 

This  was  carrying  the  matter  too  far,  and  I  thought  it 
had  certainly  undone  us ;  for  stopping  short,  with  a  sta^v, 
in  crossing  the  room,  he  turns  and  looks  first  at  Dawson, 
then  at  me,  with  anything  but  a  pleasant  look  in  his  eyes  as 
finding  his  dignity  hurt,  to  be  thus  bustled  by  a  mere  child. 
Then  his  dark  eyebrows  unbending  with  the  reflection, 
maybe,  that  it  was  so  much  the  better  to  his  purpose  that 
Moll  could  so  act  as  to  deceive  him,  he  seats  himself 
gravely,  and  replies  to  Jack  : 


3O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"Your  family  wit  may  get  you  a  night's  lodging,  but  I 
doubt  if  you  will  ever  merit  it  so  well  as  your  daughter." 

"Well,"  says  Jack,  with  a  laugh,  "what  wit  we  have 
amongst  us  we  are  resolved  to  employ  in  your  honour's 
service,  so  that  you  show  us  this  steward-fellow  is  a  rascal 
that  deserves  to  be  bounced,  and  we  do  no  great  injury  to 
any  one  else." 

"  Good,"  says  Don  Sanchez.  "  We  will  proceed  to  that 
without  delay.  And  now,  as  we  have  no  matter  to  discuss, 
and  must  be  afoot  early  to-morrow,  I  will  ring  for  a  light  to 
take  you  to  bed." 

So  we  up  presently  to  a  good  snug  room  with  a  bed  to 
each  of  us  fit  for  a  prince.  And  there,  with  the  blankets 
drawn  up  to  our  ears,  we  fell  blessing  our  stars  that  we  were 
now  fairly  out  of  our  straits,  and  after  that  to  discussing 
whether  we  should  consult  Moll's  inclination  to  this  busi- 
ness. First,  Dawson  was  for  telling  her  plump  out  all  about 
our  project,  saying  that  being  so  young  she  had  no  con- 
science to  speak  of,  and  would  like  nothing  better  than  to 
take  part  in  any  piece  of  mischief.  But  against  this  I  pro- 
tested, seeing  that  it  would  be  dangerous  to  our  design  to 
let  her  know  so  much  (she  having  a  woman's  tongue  in  her 
head),  and  also  of  a  bad  tendency  to  make  her,  as  it  were, 
u  "the  very  beginning  of  her  life,  a  knowing  active  party  to 
what  looked  like  nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  piece  of 
knavery.  Therefore  I  proposed  we  should,  when  necessary, 
tell  her  just  so  much  of  our  plan  as  was  expedient,  and  no 
more.  And  this  agreeing  mightily  with  Jack's  natural  turn 
for  taking  of  short  cuts  out  of  difficulties,  he  fell  in  with  my 
views  at  once,  and  so,  bidding  God  bless  me,  he  lays  the 
clothes  over  his  head  and  was  snoring  the  next  minute. 


MOLL    STILL    VERY    DELICATE.  31 

In  the  morning  we  found  the  Don  just  as  kind  to  us 
as  the  day  before  he  had  been  careless,  and  so  made  us 
eat  breakfast  with  him,  to  our  great  content.  Also,  he  sent 
a  maid  up  to  Moll  to  enquire  of  her  health,  and  if  she  could 
eat  anything  from  our  table,  to  which  the  baggage  sends  reply 
that  she  feels  a  little  easier  this  morning  and  could  fancy 
a  dish  of  black  puddings.  These  delicacies  her  father  car- 
ried to  her,  being  charged  by  the  Don  to  tell  her  that  we 
should  be  gone  for  a  couple  of  days,  and  that  in  our  absence 
she  might  command  whatever  she  felt  was  necessary  to  her 
complete  recovery  against  our  return.  Then  I  told  Don 
Sanchez  how  we  had  resolved  to  tell  Moll  no  more  of  our 
purpose  than  was  necessary  for  the  moment,  which  pleased 
him,  I  thought,  mightily,  he  saying  that  our  success  or  fail- 
ure depended  upon  secrecy  as  much  as  anything,  for  which 
reason  he  had  kept  us  in  the  dark  as  much  as  ever  it 
was  possible. 

About  eight  o'clock  three  saddle  nags  were  brought  to  the 
door,  and  we,  mounting,  set  out  for  London,  where  we  ar- 
rived about  ten,  the  roads  being  fairly  passable  save  in  the 
marshy  parts  about  Shoreditch,  where  the  mire  was  knee- 
deep;  so  to  Gracious  Street,  and  there  leaving  our  nags  at  the 
Turk  inn,  we  walked  down  to  the  Bridge  stairs,  and  thence 
with  a  pair  of  oars  to  Greenwich.  Here,  after  our  tedious 
chilly  voyage,  we  were  not  ill-pleased  to  see  the  inside  of  an 
inn  once  more,  and  Don  Sanchez,  taking  us  to  the  King's 
posting-house,  orders  a  fire  to  be  lighted  in  a  private  room, 
and  the  best  there  was  in  the  larder  to  be  served  us  in  the 
warm  parlour.  While  we  were  at  our  trenchers  Don  San- 
chez says : 

"  At  two  o'clock  two  men  are  coming  hither  to  see  me. 


32  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

One  is  a  master  mariner  named  Robert  Evans,  the  other  a 
merchant  adventurer  of  his  acquaintance  whom  I  have  not 
yet  seen.  Now  you  are  to  mark  these  two  men  well,  note 
all  they  say  and  their  manner  of  speaking,  for  to-morrow  you 
will  have  to  personate  these  characters  before  one  who 
would  be  only  too  glad  to  find  you  at  fault." 

"  Very  good,  Sefior,"  says  Dawson  ;  "  but  which  of  these 
parts  am  I  to  play?  " 

"  That  you  may  decide  when  you  have  seen  the  men,  but 
I  should  say  from  my  knowledge  of  Robert  Evans  that  you 
may  best  represent  his  character.  For  in  your  parts  to-day 
you  are  to  be  John  and  Christopher  Knight,  two  needy 
cousins  of  Lady  Godwin,  whose  husband,  Sir  Richard 
Godwin,  was  lost  at  sea  seven  years  ago.  I  doubt  if  you 
will  have  to  do  anything  in  these  characters  beyond  looking 
eager  and  answering  merely  yes  and  no  to  such  questions  as 
I  may  put." 

Thus  primed,  we  went  presently  to  the  sitting-room  above, 
and  the  drawer  shortly  after  coming  to  say  that  two  gentle- 
men desired  to  see  Don  Sanchez,  Jack  and  I  seated  our- 
selves side  by  side  at  a  becoming  distance  from  the  Don, 
holding  our  hats  on  our  knees  as  humbly  as  may  be.  Then 
in  comes  a  rude,  dirty  fellow  with  a  patch  over  one  eye  and  a 
most  peculiar  bearish  gait,  dressed  in  a  tarred  coat,  with  a 
wool  shawl  about  his  neck,  followed  by  a  shrewd- visaged  little 
gentleman  in  a  plain  cloth  suit,  but  of  very  good  substance, 
he  looking  just  as  trim  and  well-mannered  as  t'other  was 
uncouth  and  rude. 

"Well,  here  am  I,"  says  Evans  (whom  we  knew  at  once 
for  the  master  mariner),  flinging  his  hat  and  shawl  in  a 
corner.  "  There's  his  excellency  Don  Sanchez,  and  here's 


STRANGE    COMPANY    AT    GREENWICH.  33 

Mr.  Hopkins,  the  merchant  I  spoke  on  yesterday ;  and  who 
be  these?"  turning  about  to  fix  us  with  his  one  blue  eye. 

"  Two  gentlemen  related  to  Mrs.  Godwin,  and  very  anx- 
ious for  her  return,"  replies  the  Don. 

"  Then  we  being  met  friends  all,  let's  have  up  a  bottle  and 
heave  off  on  this  here  business  without  more  ado,"  says 
Evans ;  and  with  that  he  seats  himself  in  the  Don's  chair, 
pokes  up  the  fire  with  his  boots,  and  spits  on  the  hearth. 

The  Don  graciously  places  a  chair  for  Mr.  Hopkins, 
rings  the  bell,  and  seats  himself.  Then  after  a  few  civilities 
while  the  bottle  was  being  opened  and  our  glasses  filled,  he 
says  : 

"  You  have  doubtless  heard  from  Robert  Evans  the  pur- 
pose of  our  coming  hither,  Mr.  Hopkins." 

"Roughly,"  replies  Mr.  Hopkins,  with  a  dry  little  cough. 
"  But  I  should  be  glad  to  have  the  particulars  from  you,  that 
I  may  judge  more  clearly  of  my  responsibilities  in  this 
undertaking." 

"  Oh,  Lord  !  "  exclaims  Evans,  in  disgust.  "  Here  give 
us  a  pipe  of  tobacco  if  we're  to  warp  out  half  a  day  ere  we 
get  a  capful  of  wind." 


CHAPTER  V. 

Don  Sanchez  puts  us  in  the  way  of  robbing  with  an  easy  conscience. 

PROMISING  to  make  his  story  as  short  as  he  possibly 
could,  Don  Sanchez  began : 

"  On  the  coming  of  our  present  king  to  his  throne,  Sir 
Richard  Godwin  was  recalled  from  Italy,  whither  he  had 
been  sent  as  embassador  by  the  Protector.  He  sailed  from 
Livorno  with  his  wife  and  his  daughter  Judith,  a  child  of 
nine  years  old  at  that  time,  in  the  Seahawk.  " 

"I  remember  her,"  says  Evans,  "as  stout  a  ship  as  ever 
was  put  to  sea." 

"  On  the  second  night  of  her  voyage  the  Seahawk  became 
parted  from  her  convoy,  and  the  next  day  she  was  pursued 
and  overtaken  by  a  pair  of  Barbary  pirates,  to  whom  she 
gave  battle." 

"  Aye,  and  I'd  have  done  the  same,"  cries  Evans,  "  though 
they  had  been  a  score." 

"  After  a  long  and  bloody  fight,"  continues  Don  Sanchez, 
"  the  corsairs  succeeded  in  boarding  the  Seahawk  and  over- 
coming the  remnant  of  her  company." 

"  Poor  hearts  !  would  I  had  been  there  to  help  'em,"  says 
Evans. 

"  Exasperated  by  the  obstinate  resistance  of  these  English 
and  their  own  losses,  the  pirates  would  grant  no  mercy,  but 
tying  the  living  to  the  dead  they  cast  all  overboard  save  Mrs. 
Godwin  and  her  daughter.  Her  lot  was  even  worse  ;  for  her 

34 


HISTORY    OF    MRS.    GODWIN.  35 

wounded  husband,  Sir  Richard,  was  snatched  from  her  arms 
and  flung  into  the  sea  before  her  eyes,  and  he  sank  crying 
farewell  to  her." 

"  These  Turks  have  no  hearts  in  their  bellies,  you  must 
understand,"  explains  Evans.  "And  nought  but  venom  in 
their  veins." 

"The  Seahawk  was  taken  to  Alger,  and  there  Mrs. 
Godwin  and  her  daughter  were  sold  for  slaves  in  the  public 
market-place." 

"  I  have  seen  'em  sold  by  the  score  there,"  says  Evans, 
"  and  fetch  but  an  onion  a  head." 

"  By  good  fortune  the  mother  and  daughter  were  bought  by 
Sidi  ben  Moula,  a  rich  old  merchant  who  was  smitten  by  the 
pretty,  delicate  looks  of  Judith,  whom  he  thenceforth  treated 
as  if  she  had  been  his  own  child.  In  this  condition  they 
lived  with  greater  happiness  than  falls  to  the  lot  of  most 
slaves,  until  the  beginning  of  last  year,  when  Sidi  died,  and 
his  possessions  fell  to  his  brother,  Bare  ben  Moula.  Then 
Mrs.  Godwin  appeals  to  Bare  for  her  liberty  and  to  be 
sent  home  to  her  country,  saying  that  what  price  (in  reason) 
he  chooses  to  set  upon  their  heads  she  will  pay  from  her 
estate  in  England  —  a  thing  which  she  had  proposed  before 
to  Sidi,  but  he  would  not  hear  of  it  because  of  his  love  for 
Judith  and  his  needing  no  greater  fortune  than  he  had. 
But  this  Bare,  though  he  would  be  very  well  content,  being 
also  an  old  man,  to  have  his  household  managed  by  Mrs. 
Godwin  and  to  adopt  Judith  as  his  child,  being  of  a  more 
avaricious  turn  than  his  brother,  at  length  consents  to  it,  on 
condition  that  her  ransoms  be  paid  before  she  quits  Barbary. 
And  so,  casting  about  how  this  may  be  done,  Mrs.  Godwin 
finds  a  captive  whose  price  has  been  paid,  about  to  be  taken 


36  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

to  Palma  in  the  Baleares,  and  to  him  she  entrusts  two  let- 
ters." Here  Don  Sanchez  pulls  two  folded  sheets  of  vellum 
from  his  pocket,  and  presenting  one  to  me,  he  says: 

"  Mayhap  you  recognise  this  hand,  Mr.  Knight." 

And  I,  seeing  the  signature  Elizabeth  Godwin,  answers 
quickly  enough  :  "  Aye,  'tis  my  dear  cousin  Bess,  her  own 
hand." 

"  This,"  says  the  Don,  handing  the  other  to  Evans,  "  you 
may  understand." 

"  I  can  make  out  'tis  writ  in  the  Moorish  style,"  says 
Evans,  "  but  the  meaning  of  it  I  know  not,  for  I  can't  tell 
great  A  from  a  bull's  foot  though  it  be  in  printed  English." 

"  Tis  an  undertaking  on  the  part  of  Bare  ben  Moula," 
says  the  Don,  "  to  deliver  up  at  Dellys  in  Barbary  the  per- 
sons of  Mrs.  Godwin  and  her  daughter  against  the  payment 
of  five  thousand  gold  ducats  within  one  year.  The  other 
writing  tells  its  own  story." 

Mr.  Hopkins  took  the  first  sheet  from  me  and  read  it 
aloud.  It  was  addressed  to  Mr.  Richard  Godwin,  Hurst 
Court,  Chislehurst  in  Kent,  and  after  giving  such  particulars 
of  her  past  as  we  had  already  heard  from  Don  Sanchez,  she 
writes  thus  :  "  And  now,  my  dear  nephew,  as  I  doubt  not 
you  (as  the  nearest  of  my  kindred  to  my  dear  husband  after 
us  two  poor  relicts)  have  taken  possession  of  his  estate  in 
the  belief  we  were  all  lost  in  our  voyage  from  Italy,  I  do 
pray  you  for  the  love  of  God  and  of  mercy  to  deliver  us 
from  our  bondage  by  sending  hither  a  ship  with  the  money 
for  our  ransoms  forthwith,  and  be  assured  by  this  that  I  shall 
not  dispossess  you  of  your  fortune  (more  than  my  bitter 
circumstances  do  now  require),  so  that  I  but  come  home  to 
die  in  a  Christian  country  and  have  my  sweet  Judith  where 


MRS.    GODWIN,    HER   CASE    CONSIDERED.  37 

she  may  be  less  exposed  to  harm  than  in  this  infidel  country. 
I  count  upon  your  love,  —  being  ever  a  de'ar  nephew,  —  and 
am  your  most  hopeful,  trusting,  and  loving  aunt,  Elizabeth 
Godwin." 

"  Very  well,  sir,"  says  Mr.  Hopkins,  returning  the  letter. 
"You  have  been  to  Chislehurst." 

"  I  have,"  answers  the  Don,  "  and  there  I  find  the  estate 
in  the  hands  of  a  most  curious  Puritanical  steward,  whose 
honesty  is  rather  in  the  letter  than  the  spirit.  For  though 
I  have  reason  to  believe  that  not  one  penny's  value  of  the 
estate  has  been  misemployed  since  it  has  been  in  his  hands, 
yet  will  he  give  nothing  —  no,  not  a  maravedi  to  the  redemp- 
tion of  his  mistress,  saying  that  the  letter  is  addressed  to 
Richard  Godwin  and  not  to  him,  etc.,  and  that  he  hath  no 
power  to  pay  out  monies  for  this  purpose,  even  though  he 
believed  the  facts  I  have  laid  before  him — which  for  his 
own  ends  doubtless  he  fains  to  misdoubt." 

"  As  a  trader,  sir,"  says  Mr.  Hopkins,  "  I  cannot  blame 
his  conduct  in  that  respect.  For  should  the  venture  fall 
through,  the  next  heir  might  call  upon  him  to  repay  out  of 
his  own  pocket  all  that  he  had  put  into  this  enterprise.  But 
this  Mr.  Richard  Godwin,  what  of  him?  " 

"  He  is  nowhere  to  be  found.  The  only  relatives  I  have 
been  able  to  discover  are  these  two  gentlemen." 

"Who,"  remarks  Mr.  Hopkins,  with  a  shrewd  glance  at 
our  soiled  clothes,  "  are  not,  I  venture  to  think,  in  a  position 
to  pay  their  cousin's  ransom." 

"Alas,  no,  sir,"  says  Jack.  "We  are  but  two  poor  shop- 
keepers of  London  undone  by  the  great  fire." 

"  Well  now,  sir,"  says  Mr.  Hopkins,  fetching  an  inkpot, 
a  pen,  and  a  piece  of  paper  from  his  pocket.  "I  may 


38  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

conclude  that  you  wish  me  to  adventure  upon  the  redemp- 
tion of  these  two  ladies  in  Barbary,  upon  the  hazard  of 
being  repaid  by  Mrs.  Godwin  when  she  recovers  her  estate." 
And  the  Don  making  him  a  reverence,  he  continues,  "  We 
must  first  learn  the  extent  of  our  liabilities.  What  sum  is 
to  be  paid  to  Bare  ben  Moula?  " 

"  Five  thousand  gold  ducats  —  about  two  thousand  pounds 
English." 

"Two  thousand,"  says  Mr.  Hopkins,  writing.  "Then, 
Robert  Evans,  what  charge  is  yours  for  fetching  the  ladies 
fromDellys?" 

"  Master  Hopkins,  I  have  said  fifteen  hundred  pounds," 
says  he,  "  and  I  won't  go  from  my  word  though  all  laugh  at 
me  for  a  madman." 

"  That  seems  a  great  deal  of  money,"  says  Mr.  Hop- 
kins. 

"  Well,  if  you  think  fifteen  hundred  pounds  too  much  for 
my  carcase  and  a  ship  of  twenty  men,  you  can  go  seek  a 
cheaper  market  elsewhere." 

"  You  think  there  is  very  small  likelihood  of  coming  back 
alive?" 

"  Why,  comrade,  'tis  as  if  you  should  go  into  a  den  of 
lions  and  hope  to  get  out  whole ;  for  though  I  have  the 
Duke's  pass,  these  Moors  are  no  fitter  to  be  trusted  than  a 
sackful  of  serpents.  'Tis  ten  to  one  our  ship  be  taken, 
and  we  fools  all  sold  into  slavery." 

"  Ten  to  one,"  says  Mr.  Hopkins ;  "  that  is  to  say,  you 
would  make  this  voyage  for  the  tenth  part  of  what  you  ask 
were  you  sure  of  returning  safe." 

"I  would  go  as  far  anywhere  outside  the  straits  for  an 
hundred  pounds  with  a  lighter  heart." 


HOPKINS  AND  EVANS  RELISH  LITTLE  THE  VENTURE.    39 

Mr.  Hopkins  nods  his  head,  and  setting  down  some 
figures  on  his  paper,  says  : 

"  The  bare  outlay  in  hard  money  amounts  to  thirty-five 
hundred  pounds.  Reckoning  the  risk  at  Robert  Evans'  own 
valuation  (which  I  take  to  be  a  very  low  one),  I  must  see 
reasonable  prospect  of  winning  thirty-five  thousand  pounds 
by  my  hazard." 

"  Mrs.  Godwin's  estate  I  know  to  be  worth  double  that 
amount." 

"But  who  will  promise  me  that  return?"  asks  Mr. 
Hopkins.  "  Not  you  ?  "  (The  Don  shook  his  head.)  "  Not 
you?"  (turning  to  us,  with  the  same  result).  "Not  Mrs. 
Godwin,  for  we  have  no  means  of  communicating  with  her. 
Not  the  steward  —  you  have  shown  me  that.  Who  then 
remains  but  this  Richard  Godwin  who  cannot  be  found? 
If,"  adds  he,  getting  up  from  his  seat,  "  you  can  find  Richard 
Godwin,  put  him  in  possession  of  the  estate,  and  obtain 
from  him  a  reasonable  promise  that  this  sum  shall  be  paid 
on  the  return  of  Mrs.  Godwin,  I  may  feel  disposed  to  con- 
sider your  proposal  more  seriously.  But  till  then  I  can  do 
nothing." 

"  Likewise,  masters  all,"  says  Evans,  fetching  his  hat  and 
shawl  from  the  corner,  "  I  can't  wait  for  a  blue  moon  ;  and  if 
so  be  we  don't  sign  articles  in  a  week,  I'm  off  of  my  bar- 
gain, and  mighty  glad  to  get  out  of  it  so  cheap." 

"You  see,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  when  they  were  gone  out 
of  the  room,  "  how  impossible  it  is  that  Mrs.  Godwin  and 
her  daughter  shall  be  redeemed  from  captivity.  To-morrow 
I  shall  show  you  what  kind  of  a  fellow  the  steward  is  that 
he  should  have  the  handling  of  this  fortune  rather  than  we." 

Then  presently,  with  an  indifferent,  careless  air,  as  if  'twas 


4O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

nought,  he  gives  us  a  purse  and  bids  us  go  out  in  the  town 
to  furnish  ourselves  with  what  disguise  was  necessary  to  our 
purpose.  Therewith  Dawson  gets  him  some  seaman's  old 
clothes  at  a  Jew's,  and  I  a  very  neat,  presentable  suit  of 
cloth,  etc.,  and  the  rest  of  the  money  we  take  back  to  Don 
Sanchez  without  taking  so  much  as  a  penny  for  our  other 
uses ;  but  he,  doing  all  things  very  magnificent,  would  have 
none  of  it,  but  bade  us  keep  it  against  our  other  necessities. 
And  now  having  his  money  in  our  pockets,  we  felt  'twould 
be  more  dishonest  to  go  back  from  this  business  than  to  go 
forward  with  it,  lead  us  whither  it  might. 

Next  morning  off  we  go  betimes,  Jack  more  like  Robert 
Evans  than  his  mother's  son,  and  I  a  most  seeming  substan- 
tial man  (so  that  the  very  stable  lad  took  off  his  hat  to 
me),  and  on  very  good  horses  a  long  ride  to  Chislehurst. 
And  there  coming  to  a  monstrous  fine  park,  Don  Sanchez 
stayed  us  before  the  gates,  and  bidding  us  look  up  a  broad 
avenue  of  great  oaks  to  a  most  surprising  brave  house,  he 
told  us  this  was  Hurst  Court,  and  we  might  have  it  for  our 
own  within  a  year  if  we  were  so  minded. 

Hence,  at  no  great  distance  we  reach  a  square  plain 
house,  the  windows  all  barred  with  stout  iron,  and  the  most 
like  a  prison  I  did  ever  see.  Here  Don  Sanchez  ringing  a 
bell,  a  little  grating  in  the  door  is  opened,  and  after  some 
parley  we  are  admitted  by  a  sturdy  fellow  carrying  a  cudgel 
in  his  hand.  So  we  into  a  cold  room,  with  not  a  spark 
of  fire  on  the  hearth  but  a  few  ashes,  no  hangings  to  the 
windows,  nor  any  ornament  or  comfort  at  all,  but  only  a 
table  and  half  a  dozen  wooden  stools,  and  a  number  of 
shelves  against  the  wall  full  of  account  books  and  papers 
protected  by  a  grating  of  stout  wire  secured  with  sundry 


WE   COME    TO    CHISLEHURST.  41 

padlocks.  And  here,  behind  a  tableful  of  papers,  sat  our 
steward,  Simon  Stout-in-faith,  a  most  withered,  lean  old 
man,  clothed  all  in  leather,  wearing  no  wig  but  his  own  rusty 
grey  hair  falling  lank  on  his  shoulders,  with  a  sour  face  of  a 
very  jaundiced  complexion,  and  pale  eyes  that  seemed  to 
swim  in  a  yellowish  rheum,  which  he  was  for  ever  a-mopping 
with  a  rag. 

"I  am  come,  Mr.  Steward,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  "to  con- 
clude the  business  we  were  upon  last  week." 

"Aye,"  cries  Dawson,  for  all  the  world  in  the  manner  of 
Evans,  "  but  ere  we  get  to  this  dry  matter  let's  have  a  bottle 
to  ease  the  way,  for  this  riding  of  horseback  has  parched  up 
my  vitals  confoundedly." 

"  If  thou  art  athirst,"  says  Simon,  "  Peter  shall  fetch  thee 
a  jug  of  water  from  the  well ;  but  other  liquor  have  we  none 
in  this  house." 

"  Let  Peter  drown  in  your  well,"  says  Dawson,  with  an 
oath  ;  "  I'll  have  none  of  it.  Let's  get  this  matter  done  and 
away,  for  I'd  as  lief  sit  in  a  leaky  hold  as  in  this  here  place 
for  comfort." 

"  Here,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  "  is  a  master  mariner  who  is 
prepared  to  risk  his  life,  and  here  a  merchant  adventurer  of 
London  who  will  hazard  his  money,  to  redeem  your  mistress 
and  her  daughter  from  slavery." 

"  Praise  the  Lord,  Peter,"  says  the  steward.  Whereupon 
the  sturdy  fellow  with  the  cudgel  fell  upon  his  knees,  as  like- 
wise did  Simon,  and  both  in  a  snuffling  voice  render  thanks 
to  Heaven  in  words  which  I  do  not  think  it  proper  to  write 
here.  Then,  being  done,  they  get  up,  and  the  steward,  hav- 
ing dried  his  eyes,  says  : 

"So  far  our  prayers  have   been  answered.     Put  me  in 


42  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

mind,  friend  Peter,  that  to-night  we  pray  these  worthy  men 
prosper  in  their  design." 

"  If  they  succeed,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  "  it  will  cost  your 
mistress  five-and-thirty  thousand  pounds." 

The  steward  clutched  at  the  table  as  if  at  the  fortune 
about  to  turn  from  him ;  his  jaw  fell,  and  he  stared  at  Don 
Sanchez  in  bewilderment,  then  getting  the  face  to  speak,  he 
gasps  out,  "  Thirty-five  thousand  pounds  !  "  and  still  in  a 
maze  asks  :  "Art  thou  in  thy  right  senses,  friend? " 

The  Don  hunches  his  shoulders  and  turns  tome.  Where- 
upon I  lay  forth  in  pretty  much  the  same  words  as  Mr.  Hop- 
kins used,  the  risk  of  the  venture,  etc.,  to  all  which  this 
Simon  listened  with  starting  eyes  and  gaping  mouth. 

"Thirty-five  thousand  pounds!"  he  says  again;  "why, 
friend,  'tis  half  of  all  I  have  made  of  the  estate  by  a  life  of 
thrift  and  care  and  earnest  seeking." 

"  'Tis  in  your  power,  Simon,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  "  to 
spare  your  mistress  this  terrible  charge,  for  which  your  fine 
park  must  be  felled,  your  farms  cut  up,  and  your  economies 
be  scattered.  The  master  here  will  fetch  your  mistress 
home  for  fifteen  hundred  pounds." 

"Why,  even  that  is  an  extortion." 

"  Nay,"  says  Jack,  "  if  you  think  fifteen  hundred  pounds 
too  much  for  my  carcase  and  a  ship  of  twenty  men,  you 
may  seek  a  cheaper  market  and  welcome,  for  I've  no 
stomach  to  risk  my  life  and  property  for  less." 

"  To  the  fifteen  hundred  pounds  you  must  add  the  ransom 
of  two  thousand  pounds.  Thus  Mrs.  Godwin  and  her 
daughter  may  be  redeemed  for  thirty-five  hundred  pounds 
to  her  saving  of  thirty-one  thousand  five  hundred  pounds," 
says  the  Don. 


SIMON    AS    ROGUISH   AS    ANY.  43 

And  here  Dawson  and  I  were  secretly  struck  by  his 
honesty  in  not  seeking  to  affright  the  steward  from  an 
honest  course,  but  rather  tempting  him  to  it  by  playing  upon 
his  parsimony  and  avarice. 

"Three  thousand  five  hundred,"  says  Simon,  putting  it 
down  in  writing,  that  he  might  the  better  realise  his  position. 
"  But  you  say,  friend  merchant,  that  the  risk  is  as  ten  to  one 
against  seeing  thy  money  again." 

"  I  will  run  the  risk  for  thirty-one  thousand  pounds,  and 
no  less,"  says  I. 

"  But  if  it  may  be  done  for  a  tenth  part,  how  then?  " 

"  Why,  'tis  your  risk,  sir,  and  not  mine,"  says  I. 

"  Yea,  yea,  my  risk.  And  you  tell  me,  friend  sailor,  that 
you  stand  in  danger  of  being  plundered  by  these  infidels." 

"  Aye,  more  like  than  not." 

"  Why,  then  we  may  count  half  the  estate  gone  ;  and  the 
peril  is  to  be  run  again,  and  thus  all  cast  away  for  nought." 

In  this  manner  did  Simon  halt  betwixt  two  ways  like  one 
distracted,  but  only  he  did  mingle  a  mass  of  sacred  words 
with  his  arguments  which  seemed  to  me  nought  but 
profanity,  his  sole  concern  being  the  gain  of  money.  Then 
he  falls  to  the  old  excuses  Don  Sanchez  had  told  us  of, 
saying  he  had  no  money  of  his  own,  and  offering  to  show  his 
books  that  we  might  see  he  had  taken  not  one  penny  beyond 
his  bare  expenses  from  the  estate,  save  his  yearly  wage,  and 
that  no  more  than  Sir  Richard  had  given  him  in  his  lifetime. 
And  on  Don  Sanchez  showing  Mrs.  Godwin's  letter  as  a 
fitting  authority  to  draw  out  this  money  for  her  use,  he  first 
feigns  to  doubt  her  hand,  and  then  says  he  :  "  If  an  acci- 
dent befalls  these  two  women  ere  they  return  to  justify 
me,  how  shall  I  answer  to  the  next  heir  for  this  outlay? 


44  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

Verily  "  (clasping  his  hands)  "  I  am  as  one  standing  in 
darkness,  and  I  dare  not  move  until  I  am  better  enlightened  ; 
so  prithee,  friend,  give  me'  time  to  commune  with  my  con- 
science." 

Don  Sanchez  hunches  up  his  shoulders  and  turns  to  us. 

"Why,  look  here,  Master,"  says  Dawson.  " I  can't  see  as 
you  need  much  enlightenment  to  answer  yes  or  no  to  a  fair 
offer,  and  as  for  me,  I'm  not  going  to  hang  in  a  hedge  for  a 
blue  moon.  So  if  you  won't  clap  hands  on  the  bargain  with- 
out more  ado,  I  throw  this  business  overboard  and  shall 
count  I've  done  the  best  day's  work  of  my  life  in  getting  out 
of  the  affair." 

Then  I  made  as  if  I  would  willingly  draw  out  of  my  share 
in  the  project. 

"  My  friends,"  says  Simon,  "  there  can  be  scarce  any  hope 
at  all  if  thou  wilt  not  hazard  thy  money  for  such  a  prodi- 
gious advantage."  Then  turning  to  Peter  as  his  last  hope, 
he  asks  in  despair,  "  What  shall  we  do,  my  brother?  " 

"We  can  keep  on  a-praying,  friend  Simon,"  replies  Peter, 
in  a  snivelling  voice. 

"A  blessed  thought!"  exclaims  the  steward  in  glee. 
"  Surely  that  is  more  righteous  than  to  lay  faith  in  our  own 
vain  effort.  So  do  thou,  friend  "  (turning  to  me),  "put  thy 
money  to  this  use,  for  I  will  none." 

"I  cannot  do  that,  sir,"  says  I,  "without  an  assurance  that 
Mrs.  Godwin's  estate  will  bear  this  charge." 

With  wondrous  alacrity  Simon  fetches  a  book  with  a  plan 
of  the  estate,  whereby  he  showed  us  that  not  a  holding  on 
the  estate  was  untenanted,  not  a  single  tenant  in  arrear  with 
his  rent,  and  that  the  value  of  the  property  with  all  deduc- 
tions made  was  sixty-five  thousand  pounds. 


COUNT    OURSELVES    MIGHTY    HONEST.  4$ 

"Very  good  sir,"  says  I.  "Now  you  must  give  me  a 
written  note,  stating  what  you  have  shown,  with  your 
sanction  to  my  making  this  venture  on  Mrs.  Godwin's 
behalf,  that  I  may  justify  my  claim  hereafter." 

But  this  Simon  stoutly  refused  to  do,  saying  his  con- 
science would  not  allow  him  to  sign  any  bond  (clearly  with 
the  hope  that  he  might  in  the  end  shuffle  out  of  paying 
anything  at  all) ,  until  Don  Sanchez,  losing  patience,  declared 
he  would  certainly  hunt  all  London  through  to  find  that  Mr. 
Richard  Godwin,  who  was  the  next  of  kin,  hinting  that  he 
would  certainly  give  us  such  sanction  as  we  required  if  only 
to  prove  his  right  to  the  succession  should  our  venture  fail. 

This  put  the  steward  to  a  new  taking ;  but  the  Don  hold- 
ing firm,  he  at  length  agreed  to  give  us  this  note,  upon  Don 
Sanchez  writing  another  affirming  that  he  had  seen  Mrs. 
Godwin  and  her  daughter  in  Barbary,  and  was  going  forth  to 
fetch  them,  that  should  Mr.  Richard  Godwin  come  to  claim 
the  estate  he  might  be  justly  put  off. 

And  so  this  business  ended  to  our  great  satisfaction,  we 
saying  to  ourselves  that  we  had  done  all  that  man  could  to 
redeem  the  captives,  and  that  it  would  be  no  harm  at  all  to 
put  a  cheat  upon  the  miserly  steward.  Whether  we  were 
any  way  more  honest  than  he  in  shaping  our  conduct  accord- 
ing to  our  inclinations  is  a  question  which  troubled  us  then 
very  little. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Moll  is  cast  to  play  the  part  of  a  fine  lady  ;  doubtful  promise  for 
this  undertaking. 

ON  our  way  back  to  Greenwich  we  stayed  at  an  inn  by 
the  road  to  refresh  ourselves,  and  there,  having  a  snug  par- 
lour to  ourselves,  and  being  seated  about  a  fine  cheese  with 
each  a  full  measure  of  ale,  Don  Sanchez  asks  us  if  we  are 
satisfied  with  our  undertaking. 

"Aye,  that  we  are,"  replies  Dawson,  mightily  pleased  as 
usual  to  be  a-feasting.  "  We  desire  nothing  better  than  to 
serve  your  honour  faithfully  in  all  ways,  and  are  ready  to  put 
our  hands  to  any  bond  you  may  choose  to  draw  up." 

"  Can  you  show  me  the  man,"  asks  the  Don,  lifting  his 
eyebrows  contemptuously,  "  who  ever  kept  a  treaty  he  was 
minded  to  break  ?  Men  are  honest  enough  when  nought's 
to  be  gained  by  breaking  faith.  Are  you  both  agreed  to 
this  course?" 

"Yes,  Senor,"  says  I,  "and  my  only  compunction  now  is 
that  I  can  do  so  little  to  forward  this  business." 

"  Why,  so  far  as  I  can  see  into  it,"  says  Dawson,  "  one  of 
us  must  be  cast  for  old  Mrs.  Godwin,  if  Moll  is  to  be  her 
daughter,  and  you're  fitter  to  play  the  part  than  I,  for  I 
take  it  this  old  gentlewoman  should  be  of  a  more  delicate, 
sickly  composition  than  mine." 

"  We  will  suppose  that  Mrs.  Godwin  is  dead,"  says  the 
Don,  gravely. 

46 


THIEVING   NOT    SO   EASY    AS    IT   SEEMS.  47 

"  Aye,  to  be  sure  ;  that  simplifies  the  thing  mightily.  But 
pray,  Senor,  what  parts  are  we  to  play?" 

"  The  parts  you  have  played  to-day.  You  go  with  me  to 
fetch  Judith  Godwin  from  Barbary." 

"This  hangs  together  and  ought  to  play  well ;  eh,  Kit? " 

I  asked  Don  Sanchez  how  long,  fti  the  ordinary  course  of 
things  an  expedition  of  this  kind  would  take. 

"  That  depends  upon  accidents  of  many  kinds,"  answers 
he.  "We  may  very  well  stretch  it  out  best  part  of  a  year." 

"  A  year,"  says  Jack,  scratching  his  ear  ruefully,  for  I 
believe  he  had  counted  upon  coming  to  live  like  a  lord  in  a 
few  weeks.  "  And  what  on  earth  are  we  to  do  in  the  mean- 
while?" 

"  Teach  Moll,"  answers  the  Don. 

"  She  can  read  anything  print  or  scrip,"  says  Jack,  proudly, 
"  and  write  her  own  name." 

"Judith  Godwin,"  says  the  Don,  reflectively,  "  lived  two 
years  in  Italy.  She  would  certainly  remember  some  words 
of  Italian.  Consider  this  :  it  is  not  sufficient  merely  to 
obtain  possession  of  the  Godwin  estate ;  it  must  be  held 
against  the  jealous  opposition  of  that  shrewd  steward  and 
of  the  presumptive  heir,  Mr.  Richard  Godwin,  who  may 
come  forward  at  any  time." 

"  You're  in  the  right,  Senor.  Well,  there's  Kit  knows  the 
language  and  can  teach  her  a  smattering  of  the  Italian,  I 
warrant,  in  no  time." 

"  Judith  would  probably  know  something  of  music,"  pur- 
sues the  Don. 

"  Why,  Moll  can  play  Kit's  fiddle  as  well  as  he." 

"  But,  above  all,"  continues  the  Don,  as  taking  no  heed 
of  this  tribute  to  Moll's  abilities,  "  Judith  Godwin  must  be 


48  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

able  to  read  and  write  the  Moorish  character  and  speak  the 
tongue  readily,  answer  aptly  as  to  their  ways  and  habits,  and 
to  do  these  things  beyond  suspect.  Moll  must  live  with 
these  people  for  some  months." 

"  God  have  mercy  on  us  !  "  cries  Jack.  "  Your  honour  is 
not  for  taking  us  to  Barbary." 

"  No,"  answers  the  Don,  dryly,  passing  his  long  ringers 
with  some  significance  over  the  many  seams  in  his  long 
face,  "  but  we  must  go  where  the  Moors  are  to  be  found,  on 
the  hither  side  of  the  straits." 

"  Well,"  says  Dawson,  "  all's  as  one  whither  we  go  in 
safety  if  we're  to  be  out  of  our  fortune  for  a  year.  There's 
nothing  more  for  our  Moll  to  learn,  I  suppose,  Senor." 

"  It  will  not  be  amiss  to  teach  her  the  manners  of  a  lady," 
replies  the  Don,  rising  and  knitting  his  brows  together 
unpleasantly,  "and  especially  to  keep  her  feet  under  her 
chair  at  table." 

With  this  he  rings  the  bell  for  our  reckoning,  and  so  ends 
our  discussion,  neither  Dawson  nor  I  having  a  word  to  say 
in  answer  to  this  last  hit,  which  .showed  us  pretty  plainly 
that  in  reaching  round  with  her  long  leg  for  our  shins,  Moll 
had  caught  the  Don's  shanks  a  kick  that  night  she  was  seized 
with  a  cough. 

So  to  horse  again  and  a  long  jog  back  to  Greenwich, 
where  Dawson  and  I  would  fain  have  rested  the  night 
(being  unused  to  the  saddle  and  very  raw  with  our  journey), 
but  the  Don  would  not  for  prudence,  and  therefore,  after 
changing  our  clothes,  we  make  a  shift  to  mount  once  more, 
and  thence  another  long  horrid  jolt  to  Edmonton  very 
painfully. 

Coming  to  the  Bell  (more  dead  than  alive)  about  eight, 


COME    BACK    TO    EDMONTON    VERY   JADED.  49 

and  pitch  dark,  we  were  greatly  surprised  that  we  could 
make  no  one  hear  to  take  our  horses,  and  further,  having 
turned  the  brutes  into  the  stable  ourselves,  to  find  never 
a  soul  in  the  common  room  or  parlour,  so  that  the  place 
seemed  quite  forsaken.  But  hearing  a  loud  guffaw  of 
laughter  from  below,  we  go  downstairs  to  the  kitchen, 
which  we  could  scarce  enter  for  the  crowd  in  the  doorway. 
And  here  all  darkness,  save  for  a  sheet  hung  at  the  further 
end,  and  lit  from  behind,  on  which  a  kind  of  phantasmagory 
play  of  Jack  and  the  Giant  was  being  acted  by  shadow 
characters  cut  out  of  paper,  the  performer  being  hid  by 
a  board  that  served  as  a  stage  for  the  puppets.  And  who 
should  this  performer  be  but  our  Moll,  as  we  knew  by  her 
voice,  and  most  admirably  she  did  it,  setting  all  in  a  roar 
one  minute  with  some  merry  joke,  and  enchanting  'em  the 
next  with  a  pretty  song  for  the  maid  in  distress. 

We  learnt  afterwards  that  Moll,  who  could  never  rest 
still  two  minutes  together,  but  must  for  ever  be  a- doing  some- 
thing new,  had  cut  out  her  images  and  devised  the  show 
to  entertain  the  servants  in  the  kitchen,  and  that  the  guests 
above  hearing  their  merriment  had  come  down  in  time  to 
get  the  fag  end,  which  pleased  them  so  vastly  that  they 
would  have  her  play  it  all  over  again. 

"This  may  undo  us,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  in  a  low  voice 
of  displeasure,  drawing  us  away.  "  Here  are  a  dozen  visi- 
tors who  will  presently  be  examining  Moll  as  a  marvel. 
Who  can  say  but  that  one  of  them  may  know  her  again 
hereafter  to  our  confusion  ?  We  must  be  seen  together  no 
more  than  is  necessary,  until  we  are  out  of  this  country.  I 
shall  leave  here  in  the  morning,  and  you  will  meet  me  next 
at  the  Turk,  in  Gracious  Street,  to-morrow  afternoon." 
E 


5O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

Therewith  he  goes  up  to  his  room,  leaving  us  to  shift  for 
ourselves;  and  we  into  the  parlour  to  warm  our  feet  at 
the  fire  till  we  may  be  served  with  some  victuals,  both  very 
silent  and  surly,  being  still  sore,  and  as  tired  as  any  dogs 
with  our  day's  jolting. 

While  we  are  in  this  mood,  Moll,  having  finished  her  play, 
comes  to  us  in  amazing  high  spirits,  and  all  aglow  with 
pleasure  shows  us  a  handful  of  silver  given  her  by  the 
gentry ;  then,  pulling  up  a  chair  betwixt  us,  she  asks  us  a 
dozen  questions  of  a  string  as  to  where  we  have  been,  what 
we  have  done,  etc.,  since  we  left  her.  Getting  no  answer, 
she  presently  stops,  looks  first  at  one,  then  at  the  other,  and 
bursting  into  a  fit  of  laughter,  cries  :  "  Why,  what  ails  you 
both  to  be  so  grumpy?" 

"  In  the  first  place,  Moll,"  says  Jack,  "  I'll  have  you  to 
know  that  I  am  your  father,  and  will  not  be  spoken  to  save 
with  becoming  respect." 

"  Why,  I  did  but  ask  you  where  you  have  been." 

"  Children  of  your  age  should  not  ask  questions,  but  do 
as  they're  bid,  and  there's  an  end  of  it." 

"  La,  I'm  not  to  ask  any  questions.  Is  there  nothing  else 
I  am  not  to  do?" 

"  Yes ;  I'll  not  have  you  playing  of  Galimaufray  to  cook 
wenches  and  such  stuff.  I'll  have  you  behave  with  more 
decency.  Take  your  feet  off  the  hearth,  and  put  'em  under 
your  chair.  Let  me  have  no  more  of  these  galanty-shows. 
Why,  'twill  be  said  I  cannot  give  you  a  basin  of  porridge, 
that  you  must  go  a-begging  of  sixpences  like  this  !  " 

"  Oh,  if  you  begrudge  me  a  little  pocket-money,"  cries 
she,  springing  up  with  the  tears  in  her  eyes,  "  I'll  have  none 
of  it." 


FINE    MAKINGS    OF    A    LADY    IN    MOLL.  51 

And  with  that  she  empties  her  pocket  on  the  chair,  and 
out  roll  her  sixpences  together  with  a  couple  of  silver 
spoons. 

"What,"  cries  Jack,  after  .glancing  round  to  see  we  were 
alone.  "  You  have  filched  a  couple  of  spoons,  Moll?  " 

"And  why  not?"  asks  she,  her  little  nose  turning  quite 
white  with  passion.  "  If  I  am  to  ask  no  questions,  how 
shall  I  know  but  we  may  have  never  a  spoon  to-morrow  for 
your  precious  basin  of  porridge  ?  " 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Of  our  journey  through  France  to  a  very  horrid  pass  in  the  Pyraneans. 

SKIPPING  over  many  unimportant  particulars  of  our  leav- 
ing Edmonton,  of  our  rinding  Don  Sanchez  at  the  Turk 
in  Gracious  Street,  of  our  going  thence  (the  next  day)  to 
Gravesend,  of  our  preparation  there  for  voyage,  I  come  now 
to  our  embarking,  the  loth  March,  in  the  Rose,  for  Bor- 
deaux in  France.  Nor  shall  I  dwell  long  on  that  journey, 
neither,  which  was  exceedingly  long  and  painful,  by  reason 
of  our  nearing  the  equinoctials,  which  dashed  us  from  our 
course  to  that  degree  that  it  was  the  26th  before  we  reached 
our  port  and  cast  anchor  in  still  water.  And  all  those  days 
we  were  prostrated  with  sickness,  and  especially  Jack  Daw- 
son,  because  of  his  full  habit,  so  that  he  declared  he  would 
rather  ride  a-horseback  to  the  end  of  the  earth  than  go 
another  mile  on  sea. 

We  stayed  in  Bordeaux,  which  is  a  noble  town,  but  dirty, 
four  days  to  refresh  ourselves,  and  here  the  Don  lodged  us 
in  a  fine  inn  and  fed  us  on  the  best;  and  also  he  made  us 
buy  new  clothes  and  linen  (which  we  sadly  needed  after 
the  pickle  we  had  lain  in  a  fortnight)  and  cast  away  our 
old;  but  no  more  than  was  necessary,  saying  'twould  be 
better  to  furnish  ourselves  with  fresh  linen  as  we  needed  it, 
than  carry  baggage,  etc.  "And  let  all  you  buy  be  good 
goods,"  says  he,  "for  in  this  country  a  man  is  valued  at 

52 


COME  TO  BORDEAUX  NONE  TOO  SOON.      53 

what  he  seems,  and  the  innkeepers  do  go  in  such  fear  of 
their  seigneurs  that  they  will  charge  him  less  for  entertain- 
ment than  if  he  were  a  mean  fellow  who  could  ill  afford  to 
pay." 

So  not  to  displease  him  we  dressed  ourselves  in  the 
French  fashion,  more  richly  than  ever  we  had  been  clad  in 
our  lives,  and  especially  Moll  did  profit  by  this  occasion 
to  furnish  herself  like  any  duchess;  so  that  Dawson  and  I 
drew  lots  to  decide  which  of  us  should  present  the  bill  to 
Don  Sanchez,  thinking  he  would  certainly  take  exception 
to  our  extravagance;  but  he  did  not  so  much  as  raise  his 
eyebrows  at  the  total,  but  paid  it  without  ever  a  glance  at 
the  items.  Nay,  when  Moll  presents  herself  in  her  new 
equipment,  he  makes  her  a  low  reverence  and  pays  her  a 
most  handsome  compliment,  but  in  his  serious  humour  and 
without  a  smile.  He  himself  wore  a  new  suit  all  of  black, 
not  so  fine  as  ours,  but  very  noble  and  becoming,  by  reason 
of  his  easy,  graceful  manner  and  his  majestic,  high  carriage. 

On  the  last  day  of  March  we  set  forth  for  Toulouse.  At 
our  starting  Don  Sanchez  bade  Moll  ride  by  his  side,  and 
so  we,  not  being  bid,  fell  behind;  and,  feeling  awkward 
in  our  new  clothes,  we  might  very  well  have  been  taken  for 
their  servants,  or  a  pair  of  ill-bred  friends  at  the  best,  for 
our  Moll  carried  herself  not  a  whit  less  magnificent  than 
the  Don,  to  the  admiration  of  all  who  looked  at  her. 

To  see  these  grand  airs  of  hers  charmed  Jack  Dawson. 

"You  see,  Kit,"  whispers  he,  "what  an  apt  scholar  the 
minx  is,  and  what  an  obedient,  dutiful,  good  girl.  One 
word  from  me  is  as  good  as  six  months'  schooling,  for  all 
this  comes  of  that  lecture  I  gave  her  the  last  night  we  were 
at  Edmonton." 


54  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

I  would  not  deny  him  the  satisfaction  of  this  belief,  but 
I  felt  pretty  sure  that  had  she  been  riding  betwixt  us  in 
her  old  gown,  instead  of  beside  the  Don  as  his  daughter, 
all  her  father's  preaching  would  not  have  stayed  her  from 
behaving  herself  like  an  orange  wench. 

We  journey  by  easy  stages  ten  days  through  Toulouse, 
on  the  road  to  Perpignan,  and  being  favoured  with  remark- 
ably fine  weather,  a  blue  sky,  and  a  bright  sun  above  us,  and 
at  every  turn  something  strange  or  beautiful  to  admire,  no 
pleasure  jaunt  in  the  world  could  have  been  more  delight- 
ful. At  every  inn  (which  here  they  call  hotels)  we  found 
good  beds,  good  food,  excellent  wine,  and  were  treated 
like  princes,  so  that  Dawson  and  I  would  gladly  have  given 
up  our  promise  of  a  fortune  to  have  lived  in  this  manner 
to  the  end  of  our  days.  But  Don  Sanchez  professed  to 
hold  all  on  this  side  of  the  Pyrenese  Mountains  in  great 
contempt,  saying  these  hotels  were  as  nothing  to  the  Span- 
ish posadas,  that  the  people  here  would  rob  you  if  they 
dared,  whereas,  on  t'other  side,  not  a  Spaniard  would  take 
so  much  as  the  hair  of  your  horse's  tail,  though  he  were  at 
the  last  extremity,  that  the  food  was  not  fit  for  aught  but  a 
Frenchman,  and  so  forth.  And  our  Moll,  catching  this 
humour,  did  also  turn  up  her  nose  at  everything  she  was 
offered,  and  would  send  away  a  bottle  of  wine  from  the 
table  because  'twas  not  ripe  enough,  though  but  a  few 
weeks  before  she  had  been  drinking  penny  ale  with  a  relish, 
and  that  as  sour  as  verjuice.  And,  indeed,  she  did  carry 
it  mighty  high  and  artificial,  wherever  respect  and  humility 
were  to  be  commanded.  But  it  was  pretty  to  see  how  she 
would  unbend  and  become  her  natural  self  where  her  heart 
was  touched  by  some  tender  sentiment.  How  she  would 


COME    INTO    THE    PYRENESE.  55 

empty  her  pockets  to  give  to  any  one  with  a  piteous  tale, 
how  she  would  get  from  her  horse  to  pluck  wild-flowers  by 
the  roadside,  and  how,  one  day,  overtaking  a  poor  woman 
carrying  a  child  painfully  on  her  back,  she  must  have  the 
little  one  up  on  her  lap  and  carry  it  till  we  reached  the 
hamlet  where  the  woman  lived,  etc.  On  the  fifteenth  day 
we  stayed  at  St.  Denys,  and  going  thence  the  next  morning, 
had  travelled  but  a  couple  of  hours  when  we  were  caught 
in  a  violent  storm  of  hailstones  as  big  as  peas,  that  was 
swept  with  incredible  force  by  a  wind  rushing  through  a 
deep  ravine  in  the  mountains,  so  that  'twas  as  much  as  we 
could  make  headway  through  it  and  gain  a  village  which 
lay  but  a  little  distance  from  us.  And  here  we  were  forced 
to  stay  all  day  by  another  storm  of  rain,  that  followed  the 
hail  and  continued  till  nightfall.  Many  others  besides  our- 
selves were  compelled  to  seek  refuge  at  our  inn,  and 
amongst  them  a  company  of  Spanish  muleteers,  for  it  seems 
we  were  come  to  a  pass  leading  through  the  mountains  into 
Spain.  These  were  the  first  Spaniards  we  had  yet  seen 
(save  the  Don),  and  for  all  we  had  heard  to  their  credit, 
we  could  not  admire  them  greatly,  being  a  low-browed, 
coarse-featured,  ragged  crew,  and  more  picturesque  than 
cleanly,  besides  stinking  intolerably  of  garlic.  By  night- 
fall there  was  more  company  than  the  inn  could  accommo- 
date; nevertheless,  in  respect  to  our  quality,  we  were  given 
the  best  rooms  in  the  house  to  ourselves. 

About  eight  o'clock,  as  we  were  about  to  sit  down  to  sup- 
per, our  innkeeper's  wife  comes  in  to  tell  us  that  a  Spanish 
grandee  is  below,  who  has  been  travelling  for  hours  in  the 
storm,  and  then  she  asked  very  humbly  if  our  excellencies 
will  permit  her  to  lay  him  a  bed  in  our  room  when  we  have 


56  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

done  with  it,  as  she  can  bestow  him  nowhere  else  (the 
muleteers  filling  her  house  to  the  very  cock  loft),  and  has 
not  the  heart  to  send  him  on  to  St.  Denys  in  this  pitiless 
driving  rain.  To  this  Don  Sanchez  replies,  that  a  Spanish 
gentleman  is  welcome  to  all  we  can  offer  him,  and  there- 
with sends  down  a  mighty  civil  message,  begging  his  com- 
pany at  our  table. 

Moll  has  just  time  to  whip  on  a  piece  of  finery,  and  we 
to  put  on  our  best  manners,  when  the  landlady  returns, 
followed  by  a  stout,  robust  Spaniard,  in  an  old  coat  several 
times  too  small  for  him,  whom  she  introduced  as  Sefior 
Don  Lopez  de  Calvados. 

Don  Lopez  makes  us  a  reverence,  and  then,  with  his 
shoulders  up  to  his  ears  and  like  gestures,  gives  us  an 
harangue  at  some  length,  but  this  being  in  Spanish,  is  as 
heathen  Greek  to  our  ears.  However,  Don  Sanchez  ex- 
plains that  our  visitor  is  excusing  his  appearance  as  being 
forced  to  change  his  wet  clothes  for  what  the  innkeeper 
can  lend  him,  and  so  we,  grinning  to  express  our  amia- 
bility, all  sit  down  to  table  and  set  to  —  Moll  with  her 
most  finicking,  delicate  airs  and  graces,  and  Dawson  and 
I  silent  as  frogs,  with  understanding  nothing  of  the  Dons' 
conversation.  This,  we  learn  from  Don  Sanchez  after  sup- 
per, has  turned  chiefly  on  the  best  means  of  crossing  into 
Spain,  from  which  it  appears  there  are  two  passes  through 
the  mountains,  both  leading  to  the  same  town,  but  one 
more  circuitous  than  the  other.  Don  Lopez  has  come  by 
the  latter,  because  the  former  is  used  by  the  muleteers, 
who  are  not  always  the  most  pleasant  companions  one  can 
have  in  a  dangerous  road;  and  for  this  reason  he  recom- 
mends us  to  take  his  way,  especially  as  we  have  a  young 


SET    OUT    FOR    RAVELLOS.  57 

lady  with  us,  which  will  be  the  more  practicable,  as  the 
same  guides  who  conducted  him  will  be  only  too  glad  to 
serve  us  on  their  return  the  next  morning.  To  this  propo- 
sition we  very  readily  agree,  and  supper  being  ended,  Don 
Sanchez  sends  for  the  guides,  two  hardy  mountaineers,  who 
very  readily  agree  to  take  us  this  way  the  next  morning,  if 
the  weather  permits.  And  so  we  all,  wishing  Don  Lopez  a 
good-night,  to  our  several  chambers. 

I  was  awoke  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  as  it  seemed  to 
me,  by  a  great  commotion  below  of  Spanish  shouting  and 
roaring  with  much  jingling  of  bells;  and  looking  out  of 
window  I  perceived  lanterns  hanging  here  and  there  in  the 
courtyard,  and  the  muleteers  packing  their  goods  to  depart, 
with  a  fine  clear  sky  full  of  stars  overhead.  And  scarce 
had  I  turned  into  my  warm  bed  again,  thanking  God  I  was 
no  muleteer,  when  in  comes  the  Don  with  a  candle,  to  say 
the  guide  will  have  us  moving  at  once  if  we  would  reach 
Ravellos  (our  Spanish  town)  before  night.  So  I  to  Daw- 
son's  chamber,  and  he  to  Moll's,  and  in  a  little  while  we 
all  shivering  down  to  the  great  kitchen,  where  is  never  a 
muleteer  left,  but  only  a  great  stench  of  garlic,  to  eat  a 
mess  of  soup,  very  hot  and  comforting.  And  after  that 
out  into  the  dark  (there  being  as  yet  but  a  faint  flush  of 
green  and  primrose  colour  over  towards  the  east),  where 
four  fresh  mules  (which  Don  Sanchez  overnight  had  bar- 
gained to  exchange  against  our  horses,  as  being  the  only 
kind  of  cattle  fit  for  this  service)  are  waiting  for  us  with 
other  two  mules,  belonging  to  our  guides,  all  very  curiously 
trapped  out  with  a  network  of  wool  and  little  jingling 
bells.  Then  when  Don  Sanchez  had  solemnly  debated 
whether  we  should  not  awake  Don  Lopez  to  say  farewell, 


58  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

and  we  had  persuaded  him  that  it  would  be  kinder  to  let 
him  sleep  on,  we  mounted  into  our  high,  fantastic  saddles, 
and  set  out  towards  the  mountains,  our  guides  leading,  and 
we  following  close  upon  their  heels  as  our  mules  could  get, 
but  by  no  guidance  of  ours,  though  we  held  the  reins,  for 
these  creatures  are  very  sagacious  and  so  pertinacious  and 
opiniastre  that  I  believe  though  you  pulled  their  heads  off 
they  would  yet  go  their  own  way. 

Our  road  at  first  lay  across  a  rising  plain,  very  wild  and 
scrubby,  as  I  imagine,  by  the  frequent  deviations  of  our 
beast,  and  then  through  a  forest  of  cork  oaks,  which  keep 
their  leaves  all  the  year  through,  and  here,  by  reason  of 
the  great  shade,  we  went,  not  knowing  whither,  as  if  blind- 
fold, only  we  were  conscious  of  being  on  rough,  rising 
ground,  by  the  jolting  of  our  mules  and  the  clatter  of  their 
hoofs  upon  stones;  but  after  a  wearisome,  long  spell  of  this 
business,  the  trees  growing  more  scattered  and  a  thin  grey 
light  creeping  through,  we  could  make  out  that  we  were  all 
together,  which  was  some  comfort.  From  these  oaks,  we 
passed  into  a  wood  of  chestnuts,  and  still  going  up  and  up, 
but  by  such  devious,  unseen  ways,  that  I  think  no  man, 
stranger  to  these  parts,  could  pick  it  out  for  himself  in 
broad  daylight,  we  came  thence  into  a  great  stretch  of  pine 
trees,  with  great  rocks  scattered  amongst  them,  as  if  some 
mountain  had  been  blown  up  and  fallen  in  a  huge  shower 
of  fragments. 

And  so,  still  for  ever  toiling  and  scambling  upwards,  we 
found  ourselves  about  seven  o'clock,  as  I  should  judge  by 
the  light  beyond  the  trees  and  upon  the  side  of  the  moun- 
tain, with  the  whole  champaign  laid  out  like  a  carpet  under 
us  on  one  side,  prodigious  slopes  of  rock  on  either  hand, 


A    MOST    HORRID    JOURNEY.  59 

with  only  a  shrub  or  a  twisted  fir  here  and  there,  and  on 
the  further  side  a  horrid  stark  ravine  with  a  cascade  of  water 
thundering  down  in  its  midst,  and  a  peak  rising  beyond, 
covered  with  snow,  which  glittered  in  the  sunlight  like  a 
monstrous  heap  of  white  salt. 

After  resting  at  this  point  half  an  hour  to  breathe  our 
mules,  the  guides  got  into  their  saddles,  and  we  did  like- 
wise, and  so  on  again  along  the  side  of  the  ravine,  only 
not  of  a  cluster  as  heretofore,  but  one  behind  the  other  in 
a  long  line,  the  mules  falling  into  this  order  of  themselves 
as  if  they  had  travelled  the  path  an  hundred  times;  but 
there  was  no  means  of  going  otherwise,  the  path  being 
atrociously  narrow  and  steep,  and  only  fit  for  wild  goats, 
there  being  no  landrail,  coping,  or  anything  in  the  world 
to  stay  one  from  being  hurled  down  a  thousand  feet,  and 
the  mountain  sides  so  inclined  that  'twas  a  miracle  the 
mules  could  find  foothold  and  keep  their  balance.  From 
the  bottom  of  the  ravine  came  a  constant  roar  of  falling 
water,  though  we  could  spy  it  only  now  and  then  leaping 
down  from  one  chasm  to  another;  and  more  than  once  our 
guides  would  cry  to  us  to  stop  (and  that  where  our  mules 
had  to  keep  shifting  their  feet  to  get  a  hold)  while  some 
huge  boulder,  loosened  by  the  night's  rain,  flew  down 
across  our  path  in  terrific  bounds  from  the  heights  above, 
making  the  very  mountain  tremble  with  the  shock.  Not 
a  word  spoke  we ;  nay,  we  had  scarce  courage  at  times  to 
draw  breath,  for  two  hours  and  more  of  this  fearful  passage, 
with  no  encouragement  from  our  guides  save  that  one  of 
them  did  coolly  take  out  a  knife  and  peel  an  onion  as 
though  he  had  been  on  a  level,  broad  road;  and  then, 
reaching  a  flat  space,  we  came  to  a  stand  again  before  an 


60  A    SET    OF   ROGUES. 

ascent  that  promised  to  be  worse  than  that  we  had  done. 
Here  we  got  down,  Moll  clinging  to  our  hands  and  looking 
around  her  with  large,  frighted  eyes. 

"Shall  we  soon  be  there?  "  she  asked. 

And  the  Don,  putting  this  question  in  Spanish  to  the 
guides,  they  pointed  upwards  to  a  gap  filled  with  snow, 
and  answered  that  was  the  highest  point.  This  was  some 
consolation,  though  we  could  not  regard  the  rugged  way 
that  lay  betwixt  us  and  that  without  quaking.  Indeed,  I 
thought  that  even  Don  Sanchez,  despite  the  calm,  unmoved 
countenance  he  ever  kept,  did  look  about  him  with  a  cer- 
tain kind  of  uneasiness.  However,  taking  example  from 
our  guides,  we  unloosed  our  saddle  bags,  and  laid  out  our 
store  of  victuals  with  a  hogskin  of  wine  which  rekindled 
our  spirits  prodigiously. 

While  we  were  at  this  repast,  our  guides,  starting  as  if 
they  had  caught  a  sound  (though  we  heard  none  save  the 
horrid  bursting  of  water),  looked  down,  and  one  of  them, 
clapping  two  dirty  fingers  in  his  mouth,  made  a  shrill 
whistle.  Then  we,  looking  down,  presently  spied  two 
mules  far  below  on  the  path  we  had  come,  but  at  such  a 
distance  that  we  could  scarce  make  out  whether  they  were 
mounted  or  not. 

"Who  are  they?"  asks  Don  Sanchez,  sternly,  as  I  man- 
aged to  understand. 

"Friends,"  replies  one  of  the  fellows,  with  a  grin  that 
seemed  to  lay  his  face  in  two  halves. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

How  we  were  entertained  in  the  mountains,  and  stand  in  a  fair  way 
to  have  our  throats  cut. 

"  WE  will  go  on  when  you  are  ready,"  says  Don  Sanchez, 
turning  to  us. 

"  Aye,"  growled  Jack  in  my  ear,  "  with  all  my  heart. 
For  if  these  friends  be  of  the  same  kidney  as  Don  Lopez, 
we  may  be  persuaded  to  take  a  better  road,  which  God  for- 
bid if  this  be  a  sample  of  their  preference." 

So  being  in  our  saddles  forth  we  set  once  more  and  on 
a  path  no  easier  than  before,  but  worse  —  like  a  very  house- 
top for  steepness,  without  a  tinge  of  any  living  thing  for 
succour  if  one  fell,  but  only  sharp,  jagged  rocks,  and  that 
which  now  added  to  our  peril  was  here  and  there  a  patch  of 
snow,  so  that  the  mules  must  cock  their  ears  and  feel  their 
way  before  advancing  a  step,  now  halting  for  dread,  and 
now  scuttling  on  with  their  tails  betwixt  their  legs  as  the 
stones  rolled  under  them. 

But  the  longest  road  hath  an  end,  and  so  at  length  reach- 
ing that  gap  we  had  seen  from  below,  to  our  great  content 
we  beheld  through  an  angle  in  the  mountain  a  tract  of  open 
country  below,  looking  mighty  green  and  sweet  in  the  dis- 
tance. And  at  the  sight  of  this,  Moll  clapt  her  hands 
and  cried  out  with  joy;  indeed,  we  were  all  as  mad  as 
children  with  the  thought  that  our  task  was  half  done. 
Only  the  Don  kept  his  gravity.  But  turning  to  Moll,  he 

61 


62  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

stretches  out  his  hand  towards  the  plain  and  says  with 
prodigious  pride,  "  My  country  !  " 

And  now  we  began  the  descent,  which  was  actually  more 
perilous  than  the  ascent,  but  we  made  light  of  it,  being  very 
much  enlivened  by  the  high  mountain  air  and  the  relief 
from  dread  uncertainty,  shouting  out  our  reflections  one  to 
another  as  we  jolted  down  the  rugged  path. 

"After  all,  Jack,"  says  I  to  him  at  the  top  of  my  voice, 
being  in  advance  and  next  to  Don  Sanchez ;  "  after  all,  Don 
Lopez  was  not  such  a  bad  friend  to  us." 

Upon  which,  the  Don,  stopping  his  mule  at  the  risk  of 
being  cast  down  the  abyss,  turns  in  his  saddle,  and  says  : 

"  Fellow,  Don  Lopez  is  a  Spaniard.  A  Castilian  of  noble 
birth  —  "  but  here  his  mule  deciding  that  this  was  no  fit  place 
for  halting,  bundled  onward  at  a  trot  to  overtake  the  guides, 
and  obliged  his  rider  to  turn  his  attention  to  other  matters. 

By  the  look  of  the  sun  it  must  have  been  about  two  in  the 
afternoon  when,  rounding  a  great  bluff  of  rock,  we  came 
upon  a  kind  of  tableland  which  commanded  a  wide  view  of 
the  plain  below,  most  dazzling  to  our  eyes  after  the  gloomy 
recesses  of  the  pass ;  and  here  we  found  trees  growing  and 
some  rude  attempt  at  cultivation,  but  all  very  poor  and 
stunted,  being  still  very  high  and  exposed  to  the  bleak  winds 
issuing  from  the  gorges. 

Our  guides,  throwing  themselves  on  the  ground,  repaired 
once  more  to  their  store  of  onions,  and  we,  nothing  loath  to 
follow  their  examples,  opened  our  saddle  bags,  and  with  our 
cold  meat  and  the  hogskin  of  wine  made  another  good  repast 
and  very  merry.  And  the  Don,  falling  into  discourse  with 
the  guides,  pointed  out  to  us  a  little  white  patch  on  the  plain 
below,  and  told  us  that  was  Ravellos,  where  we  should  find 


SIGNS    OF    TRIBULATION    IN    STORE.  63 

one  of  the  best  posadas  in  the  world,  which  added  to  our 
satisfaction.  "  But "  says  he,  "  'tis  yet  four  hours'  march 
ere  we  reach  it,  so  we  had  best  be  packing  quickly." 

Thereupon  we  finished  our  meal  in  haste,  the  guides  still 
lying  on  the  ground  eating  onions,  and  when  we  were  pre- 
pared to  start  they  still  lay  there  and  would  not  budge. 
On  this  ensued  another  discussion,  very  indignant  and 
passionate  on  the  part  of  Don  Sanchez,  and  as  cool  and 
phlegmatic  on  the  side  of  the  guides,  the  upshot  of  which 
was,  as  we  learned  from  Don,  that  these  rascals  maintained 
they  had  fulfilled  their  bargain  in  bringing  us  over  into  Spain, 
but  as  to  carrying  us  to  Ravellos  they  would  by  no  means 
do  that  without  the  permission  of  their  zefe,  who  was  one 
of  those  they  had  whistled  to  from  our  last  halting  place, 
and  whom  they  were  now  staying  for. 

Then,  beginning  to  quake  a  bit  at  the  strangeness  of  this 
treatment,  we  looked  about  us  to  see  if  we  might  venture  to 
continue  our  journey  alone.  But  Lord  !  one  might  as  easily 
have  found  a  needle  in  a  bundle  of  hay  as  a  path  amidst  this 
labyrinth  of  rocks  and  horrid  fissures  that  environed  us  ;  and 
this  was  so  obvious  that  the  guides,  though  not  yet  paid  for 
their  service,  made  no  attempt  to  follow  or  to  stay  us,  as 
knowing  full  well  we  must  come  back  in  despair.  So  there 
was  no  choice  but  to  wait  the  coming  up  of  the  zefe,  the 
Don  standing  with  his  legs  astride  and  his  arms  folded,  with 
a  very  storm  of  passion  in  his  face,  in  readiness  to  confront 
the  tardy  zefe  with  his  reproaches  for  this  delay  and  the 
affront  offered  to  himself,  we  casting  our  eye  longingly  down 
at  Ravellos,  and  the  guides  silently  munching  their  onions. 
Thus  we  waited  until  the  fine  ear  of  our  guides  catching  a 
sound,  they  rose  to  their  feet  muttering  the  word  "  zefe," 


64  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

and  pull  off  their  hats  as  two  men  mounted  on  mules  tricked 
out  like  our  own,  came  round  the  corner  and  pulled  up 
before  us.  But  what  was  our  surprise  to  see  that  the  fore- 
most of  these  fellows  was  none  other  than  the  Don  Lopez 
de  Calvados  we  had  entertained  to  supper  the  night  before, 
and  of  whose  noble  family  Don  Sanchez  had  been  prating  so 
highly,  and  not  a  thread  better  dressed  than  when  we  saw 
him  last,  and  full  as  dirty.  That  which  gave  us  most  uneasi- 
ness, however,  was  to  observe  that  each  of  these  "  friends  " 
carried  an  ugly  kind  of  musket  slung  across  his  back,  and  a 
most  unpleasant  long  sheath  knife  in  his  waist  cloth. 

Not  a  word  says  our  Don  Sanchez,  but  feigning  still  to 
believe  him  a  man  of  quality,  he  returns  the  other  Don's  salu- 
tation with  all  the  ceremony  possible.  Then  Don  Lopez, 
smiling  from  ear  to  ear,  begs  us  (as  I  learnt  afterwards)  to 
pardon  him  for  keeping  us  waiting,  which  had  not  happened, 
he  assures  us,  if  we  had  not  suffered  him  to  oversleep  himself. 
He  then  informs  us  that  we  are  now  upon  his  domain,  and 
begs  us  to  accept  such  hospitality  as  his  Castillo  will  furnish, 
in  return  for  our  entertainment  of  last  night.  To  this  Don 
Sanchez  replies  with  a  thousand  thanks  that  we  are  anxious 
to  reach  Ravellos  before  nightfall,  and  that,  therefore,  we 
will  be  going  at  once  if  it  is  all  the  same  to  him.  With 
more  bowing  and  scraping  Don  Lopez  amiably  but  firmly 
declines  to  accept  any  refusal  of  his  offer  or  to  talk  of 
business  before  his  debt  of  gratitude  is  paid.  With  that 
he  gives  a  sign  to  our  guides,  who  at  once  lead  off  our 
mules  at  a  brisk  trot,  leaving  us  to  follow  on  foot  with 
Don  Lopez  and  his  companion,  whom  he  introduces  as 
Don  Ruiz  del  Puerto,  —  as  arrant  a  cut-throat  rascal  to 
look  at  as  ever  I  clapt  eyes  on. 


ENTERTAINED    TO    OUR    DISCOMFORT.  65 

So  we  with  very  dismal  forebodings  trudge  on,  having  no 
other  course  to  take,  Don  Sanchez,  to  make  the  best  of  it, 
warranting  that  no  harm  shall  come  to  us  while  we  are  under 
the  hospitable  protection  of  a  Spaniard,  but  to  no  great  effect 
—  our  faith  being  already  shaken  in  his  valuation  of  Spaniards. 

Quitting  the  tableland,  ten  minutes  of  leaping  and 
scrambling  brought  us  to  a  collection  of  miserable  huts 
built  all  higgledy-piggledy  along  the  edge  of  a  torrent, 
overtopped  by  a  square  building  of  more  consequence, 
built  of  grey  stone  and  roofed  with  slate  shingles,  but  with 
nothing  but  ill-shaped  holes  for  windows ;  and  this,  Don 
Lopez  with  some  pride  told  us  was  his  castillo.  A  ragged 
crew  of  women  and  children,  apprised  of  our  coming  by  the 
guide,  maybe,  trooped  out  of  the  village  to  meet  us  and 
hailed  our  approach  with  shouts  of  joy,  "  for  all  the  world 
like  a  pack  of  hounds  at  the  sight  of  their  keeper  with  a 
dish  of  bones,"  whispers  Jack  Dawson  in  my  ear  ominously. 
But  it  was  curious  to  see  how  they  did  all  fall  back  in  two 
lines,  those  that  had  hats  taking  them  off  as  Don  Lopez 
passed,  he  bowing  to  them  right  and  left,  like  any  prince 
in  his  progress. 

So  we  up  to  the  castillo,  where  all  the  men  of  the 
village  are  assembled  and  all  armed  like  Don  Lopez,  and 
they  greet  us  with  cries  of  "  Hola  !  "  and  throwing  up  of 
hats.  They  making  way  for  us  with  salutations  on  both  sides, 
we  enter  the  castillo,  where  we  find  one  great  ill-paved  room 
with  a  step-ladder  on  one  side  leading  to  the  floor  above,  but 
no  furniture  save  a  table  and  some  benches  of  wood,  all 
black  and  shining  with  grease  and  dirt.  But  indeed  the 
walls,  the  ceiling,  and  all  else  about  us  was  beyond  every- 
thing for  blackness,  and  this  was  easily  to  be  understood, 
F 


66  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

for  a  wench  coming  in  with  a  cauldron  lights  a  faggot  of 
wood  in  a  corner,  where  was  no  chimney  to  carry  off  the 
smoke,  but  only  a  hole  in  the  wall  with  a  kind  of  eaves  over 
it,  so  that  presently  the  place  was  so  filled  with  the  fumes 
'twas  difficult  to  see  across  it. 

Don  Lopez  (always  as  gracious  as  a  cat  with  a  milk- 
maid) asks  Moll  through  Don  Sanchez  if  she  would  like  to 
make  her  toilette,  while  dinner  is  preparing,  and  at  this 
offer  all  of  us  jump  —  choosing  anything  for  a  change  ;  so  he 
takes  us  up  the  step-ladder  to  the  floor  above,  which  differs 
from  that  below  in  being  cut  up  into  half  a  dozen  pieces  by 
some  low  partition  of  planks  nailed  loosely  together  like 
cribs  for  cattle,  with  some  litter  of  dry  leaves  and  hay  in 
each,  but  in  other  respects  being  just  as  naked  and  grimy, 
with  a  cloud  of  smoke  coming  up  through  the  chinks  in  the 
floor. 

"You  will  have  the  sole  use  of  these  chambers  during 
your  stay,"  says  Don  Lopez,  "  and  for  your  better  assurance 
you  can  draw  the  ladder  up  after  you  on  retiring  for  the 
night." 

But  for  the  gravity  of  our  situation  and  prospects  I  could 
have  burst  out  laughing  when  Don  Sanchez  gave  us  the 
translation  of  this  promise,  for  the  idea  of  regarding  these 
pens  as  chambers  was  not  less  ludicrous  than  the  air  of 
pride  with  which  Don  Lopez  bestowed  the  privilege  of 
using  'em  upon  us. 

Don  Lopez  left  us,  promising  to  send  a  maid  with  the 
necessary  appointments  for  Moll's  toilette. 

"A  plague  of  all  this  finery  !  "  growled  Dawson.  "How 
long  may  it  be,  think  you,  Senor,  ere  we  can  quit  this  palace 
and  get  to  one  of  those  posadas  you  promised  us?  " 


NO    RELISH    FOR    OUR    MEAT.  6/ 

Don  Sanchez  hunched  his  shoulders  for  all  reply  and 
turned  away  to  hide  his  mortification.  And  now  a  girl 
comes  up  with  a  biggin  of  water  on  her  head,  a  broken 
comb  in  her  hand,  and  a  ragged  cloth  on  her  arm  that 
looked  as  if  it  had  never  been  washed  since  it  left  the 
loom,  and  sets  them  down  on  a  bench,  with  a  grin  at  Moll ; 
but  she,  though  not  over-nice,  turns  away  with  a  pout  of 
disgust,  and  then  we  to  get  a  breath  of  fresh  air  to  a  hole 
in  the  wall  on  the  windward  side,  where  we  stand  all  dumb 
with  disappointment  and  dread  until  we  are  called  down  to 
dinner.  But  before  going  down  Don  Sanchez  warns  us  to 
stand  on  our  best  behaviour,  as  these  Spaniards,  for  all  their 
rude  seeming,  were  of  a  particularly  punctilious,  ticklish  dis- 
position, and  that  we  might  come  badly  out  of  this  business 
if  we  happened  to  displease  them. 

"  I  cannot  see  reason  in  that,  Sefior,"  says  Dawson ;  "  for 
the  less  we  please  'em,  the  sooner  they  are  likely  to  send  us 
hence,  and  so  the  better  for  us." 

"As  you  please,"  replies  the  Don,  "but  my  warning  is  to 
your  advantage." 

Down  we  go,  and  there  stands  Don  Lopez  with  a  dozen 
choice  friends,  all  the  raggedest,  dirty  villains  in  the  world ; 
and  they  saluting  us,  we  return  their  civility  with  a  very 
fair  pretence  and  take  the  seats  offered  us — they  standing 
until  we  are  set.  Then  they  sit  down,  and  each  man  lugs 
out  a  knife  from  his  waist-cloth.  The  cauldron,  filled  with 
a  mess  of  kid  stewed  in  a  multitude  of  onions,  is  fetched 
from  the  fire,  and,  being  set  upon  a  smooth  board,  is  slid 
down  the  table  to  our  host,  who,  after  picking  out  some  tit- 
bits for  us,  serves  himself,  and  so  slides  it  back,  each  man 
in  turn  picking  out  a  morsel  on  the  end  of  his  knife.  Bear- 


68  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

ing  in  mind  Don  Sanchez's  warning,  we  do  our  best  to  eat 
of  this  dish ;  but,  Heaven  knows  !  with  little  relish,  and 
mighty  glad  when  the  cauldron  is  empty  and  that  part  of 
the  performance  ended.  Then  the  bones  being  swept  from 
the  table,  a  huge  skin  of  wine  is  set  before  Don  Lopez,  and 
he  serves  us  each  with  about  a  quart  in  an  odd-shaped  ves- 
sel with  a  spout,  which  Don  Sanchez  and  his  countrymen 
use  by  holding  it  above  their  heads  and  letting  the  wine 
spurt  into  their  mouths ;  but  we,  being  unused  to  this  fashion, 
preferred  rather  to  suck  it  out  of  the  spout,  which  seemed 
to  them  as  odd  a  mode  as  theirs  was  to  us.  However,  bet- 
ter wine,  drink  it  how  you  may,  there  is  none  than  the  wine 
of  these  parts,  and  this  reconciling  us  considerably  to  our 
condition,  we  listened  with  content  to  their  singing  of  dit- 
ties, which  they  did  very  well  for  such  rude  fellows,  to  the 
music  of  a  guitar  and  a  tambourine.  And  so  when  our  pots 
came  to  be  replenished  a  second  time,  we  were  all  mighty 
merry  and  agreeable  save  Jack  Dawson,  who  never  could 
take  his  liquor  like  any  other  man,  but  must  fall  into  some 
extravagant  humour,  and  he,  I  perceived,  regarded  some 
of  the  company  with  a  very  sour,  jealous  eye  because,  being 
warmed  with  drink,  they  fell  to  casting  glances  at  Moll  with 
a  certain  dregee  of  familiarity.  Especially  there  was  one 
fellow  with  a  hook  nose,  who  stirred  his  bile  exceedingly, 
sitting  with  his  elbows  on  the  table  and  his  jaws  in  his 
hands,  and  would  scarcely  shift  his  eyes  from  Moll.  And 
since  he  could  not  make  his  displeasure  understood  in 
words,  and  so  give  vent  to  it  and  be  done,  Jack  sat  there  in 
sullen  silence  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  show  his  resent- 
ment in  some  other  fashion.  The  other  saw  this  well  enough, 
but  would  not  desist,  and  so  these  two  sat  fronting  each  other 


COME    TO    BLOWS.  69 

like  two  dogs  ready  to  fly  at  each  other's  throats.  At  length, 
the  hook-nosed  rascal,  growing  bolder  with  his  liquor,  rises 
as  if  to  reach  for  his  wine  pot,  and  stretching  across  the 
table,  chucks  Moll  under  the  chin  with  his  grimy  ringers. 
At  this  Jack  flinging  out  his  great  fist  with  all  the  force  of 
contained  passion,  catches  the  other  right  in  the  middle  of 
the  face,  with  such  effect  that  the  fellow  flies  clean  back 
over  his  bench,  his  head  striking  the  pavement  with  a  crash. 
Then,  in  an  instant,  all  his  fellows  spring  to  their  feet,  and 
a  dozen  long  knives  flash  out  from  their  sheaths. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

Of  the  manner  in  which  we  escaped  pretty  fairly  out  of  the  hands  of 
Senor  Don  Lopez  and  his  brigands. 

UP  starts  Jack  Dawson,  catching  Moll  by  the  arm  and  his 
joint  stool  by  the  leg,  and  stepping  back  a  pace  or  two  not 
to  be  taken  in  the  flank,  he  swings  his  stool  ready  to  dash 
the  brains  out  of  the  first  that  nears  him.  And  I  do  like- 
wise, making  the  same  show  of  valour  with  my  stool,  but 
cutting  a  poor  figure  beside  Dawson's  mighty  presence. 

Seeing  their  fellow  laid  out  for  dead  on  the  floor,  with 
his  hook  nose  smashed  most  horridly  into  his  face,  the 
others  had  no  stomach  to  meet  the  same  fate,  but  with  their 
Spanish  cunning  began  to  spread  out  that  so  they  might 
attack  us  on  all  sides ;  and  surely  this  had  done  our  business 
but  that  Don  Lopez,  flinging  himself  before  us  with  his  knife 
raised  high,  cries  out  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  "  Rekbah  !  "  — 
a  word  of  their  own  language,  I  am  told,  taken  from  the 
Moorish,  and  signifying  that  whosoever  shall  outrage  the  laws 
of  hospitality  under  his  roof  shall  be  his  enemy  to  the  death. 
And  at  this  word  every  man  stood  still  as  if  by  inchantment, 
and  let  fall  his  weapon.  Then  in  the  same  high  voice  he 
gives  them  an  harangue,  showing  them  that  Dawson  was  in 
the  right  to  avenge  an  insult  offered  his  daughter,  and  the 
other  justly  served  for  his  offence  to  us.  "  For  his  offence 
to  me  as  the  host  of  these  strangers,"  adds  he,  "Jose  shall 
answer  to  me  hereafter  if  he  live ;  if  he  be  dead,  his  body 

70 


CONDITIONS    OF    PEACE.  Jl 

shall  be  flung  to  the  vultures  of  the  gorge,  and  his  name  be 
never  uttered  again  beneath  this  roof." 

"  I  bear  no  grudges,  not  I,"  says  Dawson,  when  Don 
Sanchez  gave  him  the  English  of  this.  "  If  he  live,  let  his 
nose  be  set ;  and  if  dead,  let  him  be  buried  decently  in  a 
churchyard.  But  hark  ye,  Sefior,  lest  we  fall  out  again  and 
come  out  worse  the  next  bout,  do  pray  ask  his  worship  if 
we  may  not  be  accommodated  with  a  guide  to  take  us  on 
our  way  at  once.  We  have  yet  two  hours  of  daylight  before 
us,  there's  not  a  cloud  in  the  sky,  and  with  such  a  moon  as 
we  had  the  night  before  last,  we  may  get  on  well  enough." 

Poor  Moll,  who  was  all  of  a  shake  with  the  terror  of 
another  catastrophe,  added  her  prayers  to  Dawson's,  and 
Don  Sanchez  with  a  profusion  of  civilities  laid  the  proposal 
before  Don  Lopez,  who,  though  professing  the  utmost  regret 
to  lose  us  so  soon,  consented  to  gratify  our  wish,  adding 
that  his  mules  were  so  well  accustomed  to  the  road  that 
they  could  make  the  journey  as  well  in  the  dark  as  in  broad 
day. 

"  Well,  then,"  says  Dawson,  when  this  was  told  us,  "  let  us 
settle  the  business  at  once,  and  be  off." 

And  now,  when  Don  Sanchez  proposed  to  pay  for  the 
service  of  our  guides,  it  was  curious  to  see  how  every  rascal 
at  the  table  craned  forward  to  watch  the  upshot.  Don 
Lopez  makes  a  pretence  of  leaving  the  payment  to  Don 
Sanchez's  generosity ;  and  he,  not  behindhand  in  courtesy, 
lugs  out  his  purse  and  begs  the  other  to  pay  himself. 
Whereupon,  with  more  apologies,  Don  Lopez  empties  the 
money  on  the  table  and  carefully  counts  it,  and  there  being 
but  about  a  score  of  gold  pieces  and  some  silver,  he  shakes 
his  head  and  says  a  few  words  to  Don  Sanchez  in  a  very 


/2  A   SET   OF    ROGUES. 

reproachful  tone  of  remonstrance,  to  which  our  Don  replies 
by  turning  all  the  trifles  out  of  his  pocket,  one  after  the 
other,  to  prove  that  he  has  no  money. 

"  I  thought  as  much,"  growls  Jack  in  my  ear.  "  A  pretty 
nest  of  hornets  we're  fallen  into." 

The  company,  seeing  there  was  no  more  to  be  got  out  of 
Don  Sanchez,  began  to  murmur  and  cast  their  eyes  at  us ; 
whereupon  Dawson,  seeing  how  the  land  lay,  stands  up  and 
empties  his  pockets  on  the  table,  and  I  likewise ;  but  be- 
twixt us  there  was  no  more  than  some  French  pennies  and 
a  few  odds  and  ends  of  no  value  at  all.  Fetching  a  deep 
sigh,  Don  Lopez  takes  all  these  possessions  into  a  heap 
before  him,  and  tells  Don  Sanchez  that  he  cannot  believe 
persons  of  our  quality  could  travel  with  so  little,  that  he  feels 
convinced  Don  Sanchez  must  have  dropped  a  purse  on  the 
way,  and  that  until  it  is  found  he  can  on  no  account  allow 
us  to  leave  the  neighbourhood. 

"  This  comes  of  being  so  mighty  fine  !  "  says  Dawson, 
when  Don  Sanchez  had  explained  matters.  "  Had  we  trav- 
elled as  became  our  condition,  this  brigand  would  never 
have  ensnared  us  hither.  And  if  they  won't  believe  your 
story,  Senor,  I  can't  blame  'em  ;  for  I  would  have  sworn  you 
had  a  thousand  pounds  to  your  hand." 

"Do  you  reproach  me  for  my  generosity?"  asks  the  Don. 

"  Nay,  Master,  I  love  you  for  being  free  with  your  money 
while  you  have  it,  but  'tis  a  queer  kind  of  generosity  to 
bring  us  into  these  parts  with  no  means  of  taking  us  back 
again.  Hows'ever,  we'll  say  no  more  about  that  if  we  get 
out  of  this  cursed  smoke-hole  ;  and  as  we  are  like  to  come 
off  ill  if  these  Jack-thieves  keep  us  here  a  week  or  so  and 
get  nothing  by  it,  'twill  be  best  to  tell  'em  the  honest  truth, 


WE   ARE    PUT    ON    OUR    METTLE.  73 

and  acquaint  them  that  we  are  no  gentle  folk,  but  only  three 
poor  English  mountebanks  brought  hither  on  a  wild  goose 
chase." 

This  was  a  bitter  pill  for  Don  Sanchez  to  swallow ;  how- 
ever, seeing  no  other  cure  for  our  ills,  he  gulped  it  down 
with  the  best  face  he  could  put  on  it.  But  from  the 
mockery  and  laughter  of  all  who  heard  him,  'twas  plain  to 
see  they  would  not  believe  a  word  of  his  story. 

"What  would  you  have  me  do  now?"  asks  the  Don, 
turning  to  us  when  the  clamour  had  subsided,  and  he  told 
us  how  he  had  tried  to  persuade  them  we  were  dancers  he 
was  taking  for  a  show  to  the  fair  at  Barcelona,  which  they, 
by  our  looks,  would  not  believe,  and  especially  that  a  man 
of  such  build  as  Jack  Dawson  could  foot  it,  even  to  please 
such  heavy  people  as  the  English. 

"  What !  "  cries  Jack.  "  I  can't  dance  !  We  will  pretty 
soon  put  them  to  another  complexion  if  they  do  but  give 
us  space  and  a  fair  trial.  You  can  strum  a  guitar,  Kit,  for 
I've  heard  you.  And  Moll,  my  chick,  do  you  dash  the 
tears  from  your  cheek  and  pluck  up  courage  to  show  these 
Portugals  what  an  English  lass  can  do." 

The  brigands  agreeing  to  this  trial,  the  table  is  shoved 
back  to  give  us  a  space  in  the  best  light,  and  our  judges 
seat  themselves  conveniently.  Moll  brushes  her  eyes  (to  a 
little  murmur  of  sympathy,  as  I  thought),  and  I,  striking 
out  the  tune,  Jack,  with  all  the  magnificence  of  a  king,  takes 
her  hand  and  leads  her  out  to  a  French  pavan;  and  sure 
no  one  in  the  world  ever  stepped  it  more  gracefully  than 
our  poor  little  Moll  (now  put  upon  her  mettle),  nor  more 
lightly  than  Dawson,  so  that  every  rascal  in  our  audience 
was  won  to  admiration,  clapping  hands  and  shouting 


74  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"  Hola  ! "  when  it  was  done.  And  this  warming  us,  we 
gave  'em  next  an  Italian  coranto,  and  after  that,  an  English 
pillow  dance ;  and,  in  good  faith,  had  they  all  been  our 
dearest  friends,  these  dirty  fellows  could  not  have  gone 
more  mad  with  delight.  And  then  Moll  and  her  father 
sitting  down  to  fetch  their  breath,  a  dispute  arose  among 
the  brigands  which  we  were  at  a  loss  to  understand,  until 
Don  Sanchez  explained  that  a  certain  number  would  have 
it  we  were  real  dancers,  but  that  another  party,  with  Don 
Lopez,  maintained  these  were  but  court  dances,  which 
only  proved  the  more  we  were  of  high  quality  to  be  thus 
accomplished. 

"  We'll  convince  'em  yet,  Moll,  with  a  pox  of  their  doubts," 
cries  Dawson,  starting  to  his  feet  again.  "  Tell  'em  we  will 
give  'em  a  stage  dance  of  a  nymph  and  a  wild  man,  Senor, 
with  an  excuse  for  our  having  no  costume  but  this.  Play  us 
our  pastoral,  Kit.  And  sing  you  your  ditty  of  *  Broken 
Heart,'  Moll,  in  the  right  place,  that  I  may  get  my  wind  for 
the  last  caper." 

Moll  nods,  and  with  ready  wit  takes  the  ribbon  from  her 
head,  letting  her  pretty  hair  tumble  all  about  her  shoulders, 
and  then  whipping  up  her  long  skirt,  tucks  one  end  under 
her  girdle,  thereby  making  a  very  dainty  show  of  pink  lining 
against  the  dark  stuff,  and  also  giving  more  play  for  her  feet. 
And  so  thus  they  dance  their  pastoral,  Don  Sanchez  taking 
a  tambourine  and  tapping  it  lightly  to  the  measure,  up  to 
Moll's  song,  which  so  ravished  these  hardy,  stony  men  by 
the  pathetic  sweetness  of  her  voice,  —  for  they  could  under- 
stand nothing  save  by  her  expression,  —  that  they  would  not 
let  the  dance  go  on  until  she  had  sung  it  through  again.  To 
conclude,  Jack  springs  up  as  one  enamoured  to  madness 


THE  DON  AND  I  PLUMED  OF  OUR  FINE  FEATHERS.   /5 

and  flings  out  his  last  steps  with  such  vigour  and  agility  as 
to  quite  astound  all. 

And  now  the  show  being  ended,  and  not  one  but  is 
a-crying  of  "  Hola  ! "  and  "  Animo  !  "  Moll  snatches  the  tam- 
bourine from  Don  Sanchez's  hand,  and  stepping  before  Don 
Lopez  drops  him  a  curtsey,  and  offers  it  for  her  reward. 
At  this  Don  Lopez,  glancing  at  the  money  on  the  table  by 
his  side,  and  looking  round  for  sanction  to  his  company 
(which  they  did  give  him  without  one  voice  of  opposition), 
he  takes  up  two  of  the  gold  pieces  and  drops  them  on  the 
parchment.  Thus  did  our  Moll,  by  one  clever  hit,  draw  an 
acknowledgment  from  them  that  we  were  indeed  no  fine 
folks,  but  mere  players,  which  point  they  might  have  stum- 
bled over  in  their  cooler  moments. 

But  we  were  not  quit  yet ;  for  on  Don  Sanchez's  begging 
that  we  should  now  be  set  upon  our  road  to  Ravellos,  the 
other  replies  that  though  he  will  do  us  this  service  with 
great  pleasure,  yet  he  cannot  permit  us  to  encounter  the 
danger  again  of  being  taken  for  persons  of  quality.  "  Fine 
dress,"  says  he,  "may  be  necessary  to  the  Senor  and  his 
daughter  for  their  court  dances,  and  they  are  heartily  wel- 
come to  them  for  the  pleasure  they  have  given  us,  but  for 
you  and  the  musician  who  plays  but  indifferent  well,  meaner 
garb  is  more  suitable ;  and  so  you  will  be  good  enough  to 
step  upstairs,  the  pair  of  you,  and  change  your  clothing  for 
such  as  we  can  furnish  from  our  store." 

And  upstairs  we  were  forced  to  go,  Don  Sanchez  and  I, 
and  there  being  stripped  we  were  given  such  dirty  foul  rags 
and  so  grotesque,  that  when  we  came  down,  Jack  Dawson 
and  Moll  fell  a-laughing  at  us,  as  though  they  would  burst. 
And,  in  truth,  we  made  a  most  ludicrous  spectacle,  —  espe- 


?  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

cially  the  Don,  whom  hitherto  we  had  seen  only  in  the 
neatest  and  most  noble  of  clothes,  —  looking  more  like  a 
couple  of  scarecrows  than  living  men. 

Don  Sanchez  neither  smiled  nor  frowned  at  this  treat- 
ment, taking  this  misfortune  with  the  resignation  of  a  phi- 
losopher; only  to  quiet  Dawson's  merriment  he  told  him 
that  in  the  clothes  taken  from  him  was  sewed  up  a  bond  for 
two  hundred  pounds,  but  whether  this  was  true  or  not  I 
cannot  tell. 

And  now,  to  bring  an  end  to  this  adventure,  we  were 
taken  down  the  intricate  passes  of  the  mountain  in  the 
moonlight,  as  many  of  the  gang  as  could  find  mules  coming 
with  us  for  escort,  and  brought  at  last  to  the  main  road, 
where  we  were  left  with  nought  but  what  we  stood  in  (save 
Moll's  two  pieces) ,  the  robbers  bidding  us  their  adios  with 
all  the  courtesy  imaginable.  But  even  then,  robbed  of  all 
he  had  even  to  the  clothes  of  his  back,  Don  Sanchez's  pride 
was  unshaken,  for  he  bade  us  note  that  the  very  thieves  in 
Spain  were  gentlemen. 

As  we  trudged  along  the  road  toward  Ravellos,  we  fell 
debating  on  our  case,  as  what  we  should  do  next,  etc.,  Don 
Sanchez  promising  that  we  should  have  redress  for  our  ill- 
treatment,  that  his  name  alone  would  procure  us  a  supply  of 
money  for  our  requirements,  etc.,  to  my  great  content.  But 
Dawson  was  of  another  mind. 

"  As  for  seeking  redress,"  says  he,  "  I  would  as  soon  kick 
at  a  hive  for  being  stung  by  a  bee,  and  the  wisest  course 
when  you've  been  once  bit  by  a  dog  is  to  keep  out  of  his 
way  for  the  future.  With  respect  of  getting  money  by  your 
honour's  name,  you  may  do  as  you  please,  and  so  may  you, 
Kit,  if  you're  so  minded.  But  for  my  part,  henceforth  I'll 


DAWSON    PROPOUNDS    A    NOTABLE    SCHEME.          7/ 

pretend  to  be  no  better  than  I  am,  and  the  first  suit  of  rags 
I  can  get  will  I  wear  in  the  fashion  of  this  country.  And  so 
shall  you,  Moll,  my  dear ;  so  make  up  your  mind  to  lay  aside 
your  fine  airs  and  hold  up  your  nose  no  longer  as  if  you 
were  too  good  for  your  father." 

"  Why,  surely,  Jack,"  says  I,  "  you  would  not  quit  us  and 
go  from  your  bargain." 

"Not  I,  and  you  should  know  me  well  enough,  Kit,  to 
have  no  doubt  on  that  score.  But  'tis  no  part  of  our  bar- 
gain that  we  should  bustle  anybody  but  Simon  the 
steward." 

"  We  have  four  hundred  miles  to  go  ere  we  reach  Elche," 
says  Don  Sanchez.  "  Can  you  tell  me  how  we  are  to  get 
there  without  money  ?  " 

"  Aye,  that  I  can,  and  I  warrant  my  plan  as  good  as  your 
honour's.  How  many  tens  are  there  in  four  hundred,  Kit  ?  " 

"  Forty." 

"  Well,  we  can  walk  ten  miles  a  day  on  level  ground,  and 
so  may  do  this  journey  in  six  weeks  or  thereabouts,  which  is 
no  such  great  matter,  seeing  we  are  not  to  be  back  in  Eng- 
land afore  next  year.  We  can  buy  a  guitar  and  a  tabor  out 
of  Moll's  pieces ;  with  them  we  can  give  a  show  wherever 
we  stay  for  the  night,  and  if  honest  men  do  but  pay  us  half 
as  much  as  the  thieves  of  this  country,  we  may  fare  pretty 
well." 

"  I  confess,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  "  your  scheme  is  the  best, 
and  I  would  myself  have  proposed  it  but  that  I  can  do  so 
little  for  my  share." 

"Why,  what  odds  does  that  make,  Senor?"  cries  Jack. 
"  You  gave  us  of  the  best  while  you  had  aught  to  give,  and 
'tis  but  fair  we  should  do  the  same  now.  Besides  which, 


78  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

how  could  we  get  along  without  you  for  a  spokesman,  and 
I  marked  that  you  drummed  to  our  dance  very  tunefully. 
Come,  is  it  a  bargain,  friend?  " 

And  on  Don  Sanchez's  consenting,  Jack  would  have  us  all 
shake  hands  on  it  for  a  sign  of  faith  and  good  fellowship. 
Then,  perceiving  that  we  were  arrived  at  the  outskirts  of  the 
town,  we  ended  our  discussion. 


CHAPTER   X. 

Of  our  merry  journeying  to  Alicante. 

WE  turned  into  the  first  posada  we  came  to  —  a  poor, 
mean  sort  of  an  inn  and  general  shop,  to  be  sure,  but  we 
were  in  no  condition  to  cavil  about  trifles,  being  fagged 
out  with  our  journey  and  the  adventures  of  the  day,  and 
only  too  happy  to  find  a  house  of  entertainment  still  open. 
So  after  a  dish  of  sausages  with  very  good  wine,  we  to  our 
beds  and  an  end  to  the  torment  of  fleas  I  had  endured  from 
the  moment  I  changed  my  French  habit  for  Spanish  rags. 

The  next  morning,  when  we  had  eaten  a  meal  of  goats' 
milk  and  bread  and  paid  our  reckoning,  which  amounted 
to  a  few  rials  and  no  more,  Don  Sanchez  and  I,  taking 
what  rested  of  Moll's  two  pieces,  went  forth  into  the  town 
and  there  bought  two  plain  suits  of  clothes  for  ourselves  in 
the  mode  of  the  country,  and  (according  to  his  desire) 
another  of  the  same  cut  for  Dawson,  together  with  a  little 
jacket  and  petticoat  for  Moll.  And  these  expenditures  left 
us  but  just  enough  to  buy  a  good  guitar  and  a  tambourine  — 
indeed,  we  should  not  have  got  them  at  all  but  that  Don 
Sanchez  higgled  and  bargained  like  any  Jew,  which  he 
could  do  with  a  very  good  face  now  that  he  was  dressed 
so  beggarly.  Then  back  to  our  posada,  where  in  our  room 
Jack  and  I  were  mighty  merry  in  putting  on  our  new 
clothes;  but  going  below  we  find  Moll  still  dressed  in  her 
finery,  and  sulking  before  the  petticoat  and  jacket  we  had 

79 


80  A    SET   OF    ROGUES. 

bought  for  her,  which  she  would  not  put  on  by  any  persuasion 
until  her  father  fell  into  a  passion  of  anger.  And  the  sight 
of  him  fuming  in  a  short  jacket  barely  covering  his  loins, 
and  a  pair  of  breeches  so  tight  the  seams  would  scarce  hold 
together,  so  tickled  her  sense  of  humour  that  she  fell  into  a 
long  fit  of  laughter,  and  this  ending  her  sulks  she  went  up- 
stairs with  a  good  grace  and  returned  in  her  hated  petticoat, 
carrying  her  fine  dress  in  a  bundle.  But  I  never  yet  knew  the 
time  when  this  sly  baggage  would  not  please  herself  for  all 
her  seeming  yielding  to  others,  and  we  were  yet  to  have  more 
pain  from  her  than  she  from  us  in  respect  of  that  skirt. 
For  ere  we  had  got  half  way  through  the  town  she,  dawd- 
ling behind  to  look  first  in  this  shop  and  then  in  that,  gave 
us  the  slip,  so  that  we  were  best  part  of  an  hour  hunting 
the  streets  up  and  down  in  the  utmost  anxiety.  Then  as 
we  were  sweating  with  our  exercise  and  trouble,  lol  she 
steps  out  of  a  shop  as  calm  as  you  please  in  a  petticoat  and 
jacket  of  her  own  fancy  (and  ten  times  more  handsome 
than  our  purchase),  a  red  shawl  tied  about  her  waist,  and  a 
little  round  hat  with  a  bright  red  bob  in  it,  set  on  one 
side  of  her  head,  and  all  as  smart  as  a  carrot. 

"  Da  !  "  says  she,  "  where  have  you  been  running  all  this 
time?" 

And  we,  betwixt  joy  at  finding  her  and  anger  at  her  im- 
pudence, could  say  nothing ;  and  yet  we  were  fain  to  admire 
her  audacity  too.  But  how,  not  knowing  one  word  of  the 
language,  she  had  made  her  wants  known  was  a  mystery,  and 
how  she  had  obtained  this  finery  was  another,  seeing  that  we 
had  spent  all  there  was  of  her  two  pieces.  Certainly  she  had 
not  changed  her  French  gown  and  things  for  them,  for  these 
in  a  cumbrous  bundle  had  her  father  been  carrying  up  and 
down  the  town  since  we  lost  the  minx. 


DO    FALL    INTO    A    MAD    FROLICSOME    HUMOUR.      8 1 

"  If  you  han't  stole  'em,"  says  Dawson,  finding  his  tongue 
at  last,  "  where  did  you  find  the  money  to  pay  for  those  trap- 
pings, slut?" 

"  In  my  pocket,  sir,"  says  she,  with  a  curtsey,  "  where  you 
might  have  found  yours  had  you  not  emptied  it  so  readily  for 
the  robbers  yesterday.  And  I  fancy,"  adds  she  slyly,  "  I  may 
still  find  some  left  to  offer  you  a  dinner  at  midday  if  you  will 
accept  of  it." 

This  hint  disposed  us  to  make  light  of  our  grievance  against 
her,  and  we  went  out  of  Ravellos  very  well  satisfied  to  know 
that  our  next  meal  depended  not  solely  upon  chance.  And 
this,  together  with  the  bright  sunlight  and  the  sweet  invigo- 
rating morning  air,  did  beget  in  us  a  spirit  of  happy  careless- 
ness, in  keeping  with  the  smiling  gay  aspect  of  the  country 
about  us. 

It  was  strange  to  see  how  easily  Moll  fell  into  our  happy- 
go-lucky  humour,  she,  who  had  been  as  stately  as  any  Roman 
queen  in  her  long  gown,  being  now,  in  her  short  coloured 
petticoat,  as  frolicsome  and  familiar  as  a  country  wench  at  a 
fair;  but  indeed  she  was  a  born  actress  and  could  accommo- 
date herself  as  well  to  one  condition  as  another  with  the  mere 
change  of  clothes.  But  I  think  this  state  was  more  to  her 
real  taste  than  the  other,  as  putting  no  restraint  upon  her 
impulses  and  giving  free  play  to  her  healthy,  exuberant  mirth. 
Her  very  step  was  a  kind  of  dance,  and  she  must  needs  fall 
a-carolling  of  songs  like  a  lark  when  it  flies.  Then  she  would 
have  us  rehearse  our  old  songs  to  our  new  music.  So,  sling- 
ing my  guitar  in  front  of  me,  I  put  it  in  tune,  and  Jack  ties  his 
bundle  to  his  back  that  he  may  try  his  hand  at  the  tambour- 
ine. And  so  we  march  along  singing  and  playing  as  if  to  a 
feast,  and  stopping  only  to  laugh  prodigiously  when  one  or 


82  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

other  fell  out  of  tune,  —  the  most  mad,  light-hearted  fools  in 
the  world; —  but  I  speak  not  of  Don  Sanchez,  who,  feel  what 
he  might,  never  relaxed  his  high  bearing  or  unbent  his  serious 
countenance. 

One  thing  I  remember  of  him  on  this  journey.  Hav- 
ing gone  about  five  miles,  we  sat  us  down  on  a  bridge  to 
rest  a  while,  and  there  the  Don  left  us  to  go  a  little  way  up 
the  course  of  the  stream  that  flowed  beneath,  and  he  came 
back  with  a  posey  of  sweet  jonquils  set  off  with  a  delicate 
kind  of  fern  very  pretty,  and  this  he  presents  to  Moll  with 
a  gracious  little  speech,  which  act,  it  seemed  to  me,  was  to 
let  her  know  that  he  respected  her  still  as  a  young  gentle- 
woman in  spite  of  her  short  petticoat,  and  Moll  was  not  dull 
to  the  compliment  neither;  for,  after  the  first  cry  of  delight 
in  seeing  these  natural  dainty  flowers  (she  loving  such 
things  beyond  all  else  in  the  world),  she  bethought  her  to 
make  him  a  curtsey  and  reply  to  his  speech  with  another  as 
good  and  well  turned,  as  she  set  them  in  her  waist  scarf. 
Also  I  remember  on  this  road  we  saw  oranges  and  lemons 
growing  for  the  first  time,  but  full  a  mile  after  Moll  had 
first  caught  their  wondrous  perfume  in  the  air.  And  these 
trees,  which  are  about  the  size  of  a  crab  tree,  grew  in 
close  groves  on  either  side  of  the  road,  with  no  manner  of 
fence  to  protect  them,  so  that  any  one  is  lief  to  pluck  what 
he  may  without  let,  so  plentiful  are  they,  and  curious  to 
see  how  fruit  and  blossom  grow  together  on  the  same  bush, 
the  lemons,  as  I  hear,  giving  four  crops  in  the  year,  and 
more  delicious,  full,  and  juicy  than  any  to  be  bought  in 
England  at  six  to  the  groat. 

We  got  a  dinner  of  bread  and  cheese  (very  high)  at  a 
roadside  house,  and  glad  to  have  that,  only  no  meat  of  any 


VERY  GOOD  FARE  ON  THE  ROAD.         83 

kind,  but  excellent  good  wine  with  dried  figs  and  walnuts, 
which  is  the  natural  food  of  this  country,  where  one  may  go 
a  week  without  touching  flesh  and  yet  feel  as  strong  and 
hearty  at  the  end.  And  here  very  merry,  Jack  in  his  per- 
tinacious, stubborn  spirit  declaring  he  would  drink  his  wine 
in  the  custom  of  the  country  or  none  at  all,  and  so  lifting  up 
the  spouted  mug  at  arm's  length  he  squirts  the  liquor  all 
over  his  face,  down  his  new  clothes  and  everywhere 
but  into  his  mouth,  before  he  could  arrive  to  do  it 
like  Don  Sanchez;  but  getting  into  the  trick  of  it,  he  so 
mighty  proud  of  his  achievement  that  he  must  drink  pot 
after  pot  until  he  got  as  drunk  as  any  lord.  So  after  that, 
finding  a  retired  place,  —  it  being  midday  and  prodigious 
hot  (though  only  now  in  mid-April),  — we  lay  down  under 
the  orange  trees  and  slept  a  long  hour,  to  our  great  refresh- 
ment. Dawson  on  waking  remembered  nothing  of  his 
being  drunk,  and  felt  not  one  penny  the  worse  for  it. 
And  so  on  another  long  stretch  through  sweet  country, 
with  here  and  there  a  glimpse  of  the  Mediterranean,  in  the 
distance,  of  a  surprising  blueness,  before  we  reached 
another  town,  and  that  on  the  top  of  a  high  hill.  But  it 
seems  that  all  the  towns  in  these  parts  (save  those  armed 
with  fortresses)  are  thus  built  for  security  against  the 
pirates,  who  ravage  the  seaboard  of  this  continent  inces- 
santly from  end  to  end.  And  for  this  reason  the  roads 
leading  up  to  the  town  are  made  very  narrow,  tortuous,  and 
difficult,  with  watch-towers  in  places,  and  many  points 
where  a  few  armed  men  lying  in  ambush  may  overwhelm 
an  enemy  ten  times  as  strong.  The  towns  themselves  are 
fortified  with  gates,  the  streets  extremely  narrow  and 
crooked,  and  the  houses  massed  all  together  with  secret 


84  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

passages  one  to  another,  and  a  network  of  little  alleys  lead- 
ing whither  only  the  inhabitants  knew,  so  that  if  an  enemy 
do  get  into  them  'tis  ten  to  one  he  will  never  come  out  alive. 

It  being  market  day  in  this  town,  here  Jack  and  his 
daughter  gave  a  show  of  dancing,  first  in  their  French 
suits,  which  were  vastly  admired,  and  after  in  their 
Spanish  clothes;  but  then  they  were  asked  to  dance  a 
fandango,  which  they  could  not.  However,  we  fared 
very  well,  getting  the  value  of  five  shillings  in  little 
moneys,  and  the  innkeepers  would  take  nothing  for  our 
entertainment,  because  of  the  custom  we  had  brought  his 
house,  which  we  considered  very  handsome  on  his  part. 

We  set  out  again  the  next  morning,  but  having  shown 
how  we  passed  the  first  day  I  need  not  dwell  upon  those 
which  followed  before  we  reached  Barcelona,  there  being 
nothing  of  any  great  importance  to  tell.  Only  Moll  was 
now  all  agog  to  learn  the  Spanish  dances,  and  I  cannot 
easily  forget  how,  after  much  coaxing  and  wheedling  on 
her  part,  she  at  length  persuaded  Don  Sanchez  to  show  her 
a  fandango;  for,  surely,  nothing  in  the  world  was  ever 
more  comic  than  this  stately  Don,  without  any  music,  and 
in  the  middle  of  the  high  road,  cutting  capers,  with  a 
countenance  as  solemn  as  any  person  at  a  burying.  No 
one  could  be  more  quick  to  observe  the  ludicrous  than  he, 
nor  more  careful  to  avoid  ridicule;  therefore  it  said  much 
for  Moll's  cajolery,  or  for  the  love  he  bore  her  even  at  this 
time,  to  thus  expose  himself  to  Dawson's  rude  mirth  and 
mine  in  order  to  please  her. 

We  reached  Barcelona  the  25th  of  April,  and  there  we 
stayed  till  the  ist  of  May,  for  Moll  would  go  no  further 
before  she  had  learnt  a  bolero  and  a  fandango  —  which 


THE  SPANIARDS  A  GENEROUS  NATURAL  PEOPLE.      85 

dances  we  saw  danced  at  a  little  theatre  excellently  well, 
but  in  a  style  quite  different  to  ours,  and  the  women  very 
fat  and  plain.  And  though  Moll,  being  but  a  slight  slip  of 
a  lass,  in  whom  the  warmer  passions  were  unbegotten, 
could  not  give  the  bolero  the  voluptuous  fervour  of  the 
Spanish  dancers,  yet  in  agility  and  in  pretty  innocent  grace 
she  did  surpass  them  all  to  nought,  which  was  abundantly 
proved  when  she  danced  it  in  our  posada  before  a  court 
full  of  Spaniards,  for  there  they  were  like  mad  over  her, 
casting  their  silk  handkerchiefs  at  her  feet  in  homage,  and 
filling  Jack's  tambourine  three  times  over  with  cigarros  and 
a  plentiful  scattering  of  rials.  And  I  believe,  had  we  stayed 
there,  we  might  have  made  more  money  than  ever  we 
wanted  at  that  time  —  though  not  so  much  as  Don  Sanchez 
had  set  his  mind  on;  wherefore  he  would  have  us  jogging 
again  as  soon  as  Moll  could  be  brought  to  it. 

From  Barcelona,  we  journeyed  a  month  to  Valencia, 
growing  more  indolent  with  our  easier  circumstances,  and 
sometimes  trudging  no  more  than  five  or  six  miles  in  a  day. 
And  we  were,  I  think,  the  happiest,  idlest  set  of  vagabonds 
in  existence.  But,  indeed,  in  this  country  there  is  not 
that  spur  to  exertion  which  is  for  ever  goading  us  in  this. 
The  sun  fills  one's  heart  with  content,  and  for  one's  other 
wants  a  few  halfpence  a  day  will  suffice,  and  if  you  have 
them  not  'tis  no  such  great  matter.  For  these  people  are 
exceeding  kind  and  hospitable;  they  will  give  you  a  meas- 
ure of  wine  if  you  are  thirsty,  as  we  would  give  a  mug  of 
water,  and  the  poorest  man  will  not  sit  down  to  table  with- 
out making  you  an  offer  to  share  what  he  has.  Wherever 
we  went  we  were  well  received,  and  in  those  poor  villages 
where  they  had  no  money  to  give  they  would  pay  us  for  our 


86  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

show  in  kind,  one  giving  us  bed,  another  board,  and  filling 
our  wallets  ere  we  left  'em  with  the  best  they  could  afford. 

'Twas  our  habit  to  walk  a  few  miles  before  dinner,  to 
sleep  in  the  shade  during  the  heat  of  the  day,  and  to  reach 
a  town  (if  possible)  by  the  fall  of  the  sun.  There  would 
we  spend  half  the  night  in  jollity,  and  lie  abed  late  in  the 
morning.  The  inns  and  big  houses  in  these  parts  are  built 
in  the  form  of  squares,  enclosing  an  open  court  with  a 
sort  of  arcade  all  round,  and  mostly  with  a  grape-vine  running 
over  the  sunnier  side,  and  in  this  space  we  used  to  give  our 
performance,  by  the  light  of  oil  lamps  hung  here  and  there 
conveniently,  with  the  addition,  maybe,  of  moonlight  re- 
flected from  one  of  the  white  walls.  Here  any  one  was  free 
to  enter,  we  making  no  charge,  but  taking  only  what  they 
would  freely  give.  And  this  treatment  engenders  a  feeling 
of  kindness  on  both  sides  (very  different  to  our  sentiment 
at  home,  where  we  players  as  often  as  not  dread  the  audi- 
ence as  a  kind  of  enemy,  ready  to  tear  us  to  pieces  if  we 
fail  to  please),  and  ours  was  as  great  a  pleasure  to  amuse 
as  theirs  to  be  amused.  I  can  recall  to  mind  nothing  of 
any  moment  occurring  on  this  journey,  save  that  we  spent 
some  time  every  day  in  perfecting  our  Spanish  dances,  I 
getting  to  play  the  tunes  correctly,  which  at  first  I  made 
sad  bungling  of,  and  Dawson  in  learning  of  his  steps.  Also, 
he  and  Moll  acquired  the  use  of  a  kind  of  clappers,  called 
costagnettes,  which  they  play  with  their  hands  in  these 
fandangos  and  boleros,  with  a  very  pleasing  effect. 

At  Valencia  we  stayed  a  week  and  three  days,  lingering 
more  than  was  necessary,  in  order  to  see  a  bull-fight.  And 
this  pastime  they  do  not  as  we  with  dogs,  but  with  men, 
and  the  bull  quite  free,  and,  save  for  the  needless  killing 


MOLL    STRANGELY    TRACTABLE.  8/ 

of  horses,  I  think  this  a  very  noble  exercise,  being  a  fair 
trial  of  human  address  against  brute  force.  And  'tis  not 
nearly  so  beastly  as  seeing  a  prize  fought  by  men,  and  not 
more  cruel,  I  take  it,  than  the  shooting  of  birds  and  hares 
for  sport,  seeing  that  the  agony  of  death  is  no  greater  for  a 
sturdy  bull  than  for  a  timid  coney,  and  hath  this  advantage, 
that  the  bull,  when  exhausted,  is  despatched  quickly, 
whereas  the  bird  or  hare  may  just  escape  capture,  to  die  a 
miserable  long  death  with  a  shattered  limb. 

From  Valencia  we  travelled  five  weeks  (growing,  I  think, 
more  lazy  every  day),  over  very  hilly  country  to  Alicante, 
a  seaport  town  very  strongly  protected  by  a  castle  on  a 
great  rock,  armed  with  guns  of  brass  and  iron,  so  that  the 
pirates  dare  never  venture  near.  And  here  I  fully  thought 
we  were  to  dawdle  away  another  week  at  the  least,  this 
being  a  very  populous  and  lively  city,  promising  much 
entertainment.  For  Moll,  when  not  playing  herself,  was 
mad  to  see  others  play,  and  she  did  really  govern,  with  her 
subtle  wiles  and  winning  smiles,  more  than  her  father,  for 
all  his  masterful  spirit,  or  Don  Sanchez  with  his  stern 
authority.  But  seeing  two  or  three  English  ships  in  the 
port,  the  Don  deemed  it  advisable  that  we  should  push  on 
at  once  for  Elche,  and,  to  our  great  astonishment,  Moll 
consented  to  our  speedy  going  without  demur,  though  why, 
we  could  not  then  discover,'  but  did  soon  after,  as  I  shall 
presently  show. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

Of  our  first  coming  to  Elche  and  the  strangeness  of  that  city. 

BEING  resolved  to  our  purpose  overnight,  we  set  out  fairly 
early  in  the  morning  for  Elche,  which  lies  half  a  dozen  leagues 
or  thereabouts  to  the  west  of  Alicante.  Our  way  lay  through 
gardens  of  oranges  and  spreading  vineyards,  which  flourish 
exceedingly  in  this  part,  being  protected  from  unkind  winds 
by  high  mountains  against  the  north  and  east;  and  here 
you  shall  picture  us  on  the  white,  dusty  road,  Moll  leading 
the  way  a  dozen  yards  in  advance,  a  tambourine  slung  on 
her  back  with  streaming  ribbons  of  many  colours,  taking  two 
or  three  steps  on  one  foot,  and  then  two  or  three  steps  on 
t'other,  with  a  Spanish  twist  of  her  hips  at  each  turn,  swing- 
ing her  arms  as  she  claps  her  costagnettes  to  the  air  of  a 
song  she  had  picked  up  at  Barcelona,  and  we  three  men 
plodding  behind,  the  Don  with  a  guitar  across  his  back, 
Dawson  with  our  bundle  of  clothes,  and  I  with  a  wallet  of 
provisions  hanging  o'  one  side  and  a  skin  of  wine  on  the 
other — and  all  as  white  as  any  millers  with  the  dust  of  Moll's 
dancing. 

"  It  might  be  as  well,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  in  his  solemn, 
deliberate  manner,  "  if  Mistress  Moll  were  advised  to  prac- 
tise her  steps  in  our  rear." 

"  Aye,  Sefior,"  replied  Dawson,  "  I've  been  of  the  same 
mind  these  last  ten  minutes.  But  with  your  consent,  Don 
Sanchez,  I'll  put  her  to  a  more  serious  exercise." 


SERIOUS    DISCOURSE   OF  JACK   DAWSON.  89 

The  Don  consenting  with  a  bov    Jack  continues  : 

"  You  may  have  observed  that  I  haven't  opened  my  lips 
since  we  left  the  town,  and  the  reason  thereof  is  that  I've 
been  turning  over  in  my  mind  whether,  having  come  thus 
far,  it  would  not  be  advisable  to  let  my  Moll  know  of  our 
project.  Because,  if  she  should  refuse,  the  sooner  we  con- 
sider some  other  plan,  the  better,  seeing  that  now  she  is  in 
good  case  and  as  careless  as  a  bird  on  the  bough,  and  she 
is  less  tractable  to  our  purposes  than  when  she  felt  the  pinch 
of  hunger  and  cold  and  would  have  jumped  at  anything  for 
a  bit  of  comfort." 

"  Does  she  not  know  of  our  design?  "  asks  the  Don,  lift- 
ing his  eyebrows. 

"  No  more  than  the  man  in  the  moon,  Seiior,"  answers 
Jack.  "  For,  though  Kit  and  I  may  have  discoursed  of  it  at 
odd  times,  we  have  been  mighty  careful  to  shut  our  mouths 
or  talk  of  a  fine  day  at  her  approach." 

"  Very  good,"  says  Don  Sanchez.     "  You  are  her  father." 

"  And  she  shall  know  it,"  says  Jack,  with  resolution,  and 
taking  a  stride  or  two  in  advance  he  calls  to  her  to  give  over 
dancing  and  come  to  him. 

"  Have  you  forgot  your  breeding,"  he  asks  as  she  turns 
and  waits  for  him,  "  that  you  have  no  more  respect  for  your 
elders  than  to  choke  'em  with  dust  along  of  your  shuffling?  " 

"What  a  thoughtless  thing  am  I  !  "  cries  she,  in  a  voice  of 
contrition.  "  Why,  you're  floured  as  white  as  a  shade  !  " 

Then  taking  up  a  corner  of  her  waist-shawl,  she  gently 
rubs  away  the  dust  from  the  tip  of  his  nose,  so  that  it  stood 
out  glowing  red  from  his  face  like  a  cherry  through  a  hole 
in  a  pie-crust,  at  which  she  claps  her  hands  and  rings  out  a 
peal  of  laughter. 


9O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"  I  counted  to  make  a  lady  of  you,  Moll,"  says  Jack,  in 
sorrow,  "  but  I  see  plainly  you  will  ever  be  a  fool,  and  so 
'tis  to  no  purpose  to  speak  seriously." 

"  Surely,  father,  I  have  ever  been  what  you  wish  me  to  be," 
answers  she,  demurely,  curious  now  to  know  what  he  would 
be  telling  her. 

"  Then  do  you  put  them  plaguy  clappers  away,  and  listen 
to  me  patiently,"  says  he. 

Moll  puts  her  hands  behind  her,  and  drawing  a  long  lip 
and  casting  round  eyes  at  us  over  her  shoulder,  walks  along 
very  slowly  by  her  father's  side,  while  he  broaches  the 
matter  to  her.  And  this  he  did  with  some  difficulty  (for  'tis 
no  easy  thing  to  make  a  roguish  plot  look  innocent),  as  we 
could  see  by  his  shifting  his  bundle  from  one  shoulder  to 
the  other  now  and  again,  scratching  his  ear  and  the  like ; 
but  what  he  said,  we,  walking  a  pace  or  two  behind,  could 
not  catch,  he  dropping  to  a  very  low  tone  as  if  ashamed  to 
hear  his  own  voice.  To  all  he  has  to  tell  she  listens  very 
attentively,  but  in  the  end  she  says  something  which  causes 
him  to  stop  dead  short  and  turn  upon  her  gaping  like  a  pig. 

"  What !  "  he  cries  as  we  came  up.  "You  knew  all  this 
two  months  ago?  " 

"  Yes,  father,"  answers  she,  primly,  "quite  two  months." 

"  And  pray  who  told  you?  "  he  asks. 

"  No  one,  father,  since  you  forbade  me  to  ask  questions. 
But  though  I  may  be  dumb  to  oblige  you,  I  can't  be  deaf. 
Kit  and  you  are  for  ever  a-talking  of  it." 

"Maybe,  child," says  Dawson,  mightily  nettled.  "Maybe 
you  know  why  we  left  Alicante  this  morning." 

"  I  should  be  dull  indeed  if  I  didn't,"  answers  she.  "  And 
if  you  hadn't  said  when  we  saw  the  ships  that  we  might  meet 


MOLL    AS    RIPE    FOR    KNAVERY    AS    ANY.  QI 

more  Englishmen  in  the  town  than  we  might  care  to  know 
hereafter,  why,  —  well,  maybe  we  should  have  been  in 
Alicante  now." 

"  By  denying  yourself  that  satisfaction,"  says  Don  Sanchez, 
"  we  may  conclude  that  the  future  we  are  making  for  you  is 
not  unacceptable." 

Moll  stopped  and  says  with  some  passion  : 

"  I  would  turn  back  now  and  go  over  those  mountains  the 
way  we  came  to  ride  through  France  in  my  fine  gown  like  a 
lady." 

"  Brava  !  bravamente  !  "  says  the  Don,  in  a  low  voice,  as 
she  steps  on  in  front  of  us,  holding  her  head  high  with  the 
recollection  of  her  former  state. 

"  She  was  ever  like  that,"  whispers  Dawson,  with  pride. 
"We  could  never  get  her  to  play  a  mean  part  willingly; 
could  we,  Kit?  She  was  for  ever  wanting  the  part  of  a 
queen  writ  for  her." 

The  next  day  about  sundown,  coming  to  a  little  eminence, 
Don  Sanchez  points  out  a  dark  patch  of  forest  lying  betwixt 
us  and  the  mountains,  and  says  : 

"That  is  Elche,  the  place  where  we  are  to  stay  some 
months." 

We  could  make  out  no  houses  at  all,  but  he  told  us  the 
town  lay  in  the  middle  of  the  forest,  and  added  some  curious 
particulars  as  how,  lying  on  flat  ground  and  within  easy 
access  of  the  sea,  it  could  not  exist  at  all  but  for  the  suffer- 
ance of  the  Spaniards  on  one  side  and  of  the  Barbary  pirates 
on  the  other,  how  both  for  their  own  convenience  respected 
it  as  neutral  ground  on  which  each  could  exchange  his  mer- 
chandise without  let  or  hindrance  from  the  other,  how  the 
sort  of  sanctuary  thus  provided  was  never  violated  either  by 


Q2  A    SET   OF    ROGUES. 

Algerine  or  Spaniard,  but  each  was  free  to  come  and  go  as 
he  pleased,  etc.,  and  this  did  somewhat  reassure  us,  though 
we  had  all  been  more  content  to  see  our  destination  on  the 
crest  of  a  high  hill. 

From  this  point  we  came  in  less  than  half  an  hour  to 
Santa  Pola,  a  small  village,  but  very  bustling,  for  here  the 
cart-road  from  Alicante  ends,  all  transport  of  commodities 
betwixt  this  and  Elche  being  done  on  mules ;  so  here  great 
commotion  of  carriers  setting  down  and  taking  up  merchan- 
dise, and  the  way  choked  with  carts  and  mules  and  a  very 
babel  of  tongues,  there  being  Moors  here  as  well  as  Span- 
iards, and  all  shouting  their  highest  to  be  the  better  under- 
stood of  each  other.  These  were  the  first  Moors  we  had 
seen,  but  they  did  not  encourage  us  with  great  hopes  of 
more  intimate  acquaintance,  wearing  nothing  but  a  kind  of 
long,  ragged  shirt  to  their  heels,  with  a  hood  for  their  heads 
in  place  of  a  hat,  and  all  mighty  foul  with  grease  and  dirt. 

Being  astir  betimes  the  next  morning,  we  reached  Elche 
before  midday,  and  here  we  seemed  to  be  in  another  world, 
for  this  region  is  no  more  like  Spain  than  Spain  is  like  our 
own  country.  Entering  the  forest,  we  found  ourselves  en- 
compassed on  all  sides  by  prodigious  high  palm  trees,  which 
hitherto  we  had  seen  only  singly  here  and  there,  cultivated 
as  curiosities.  And  noble  trees  they  are,  standing  eighty  to 
a  hundred  feet  high,  with  never  a  branch,  but  only  a  great 
spreading  crown  of  leaves,  with  strings  of  dates  hanging 
down  from  their  midst.  Beneath,  in  marshy  places,  grew 
sugar-canes  as  high  as  any  haystack;  and  elsewhere  were 
patches  of  rice,  which  grows  like  corn  with  us,  but  thrives 
well  in  the  shade,  curiously  watered  by  artificial  streams  of 
water.  And  for  hedges  to  their  property,  these  Moors  have 


ELCHE    A    MOST    CURIOUS    TOWN.  93 

agaves,  with  great  spiky  leaves  which  no  man  can  penetrate, 
and  other  strange  plants,  whereof  I  will  mention  only  one, 
they  call  the  fig  of  Barbary,  which  is  no  fig  at  all,  but  a 
thing  having  large,  fleshy  leaves,  growing  one  out  of  the 
other,  with  fruit  and  flower  sprouting  out  of  the  edges,  and 
all  monstrous  prickly.  To  garnish  and  beautify  this  formi- 
dable defence,  nature  had  cast  over  all  a  network  of  creeping 
herbs  with  most  extraordinary  flowers,  delightful  both  to  see 
and  smell,  but  why  so  prickly,  no  man  can  say. 

"Surely,  this  must  be  paradise,"  cries  Moll,  staying  to 
look  around  her. 

And  we  were  of  the  same  thinking,  until  we  came  to  the 
town,  which,  as  I  have  said,  lies  in  the  midst  of  this  forest, 
and  then  all  our  hopes  and  expectations  were  dashed  to  the 
ground.  For  we  had  looked  to  find  a  city  in  keeping  with 
these  surroundings,  —  of  fairy  palaces  and  stately  mansions ; 
in  place  whereof  was  nought  but  a  wilderness  of  mean,  low, 
squalid  houses,  with  meandering,  ill-paved  alleys,  and  all  past 
everything  for  unsavoury  smells,  —  heaps  of  refuse  lying  be- 
fore every  door,  stark  naked  brats  of  children  screaming 
everywhere,  and  a  pack  of  famished  dogs  snapping  at  our 
heels. 

Don  Sanchez  leads  the  way,  we  following,  with  rueful 
looks  one  at  the  other,  till  we  reach  the  market-place,  and 
there  he  takes  us  into  a  house  of  entertainment,  where  a 
dozen  Moors  are  squatting  on  their  haunches  in  groups 
about  sundry  bowls  of  a  smoking  mess,  called  cuscusson, 
which  is  a  kind  of  paste  with  a  little  butter  in  it  and  a  store 
of  spices.  Their  manner  of  eating  it  is  simple  enough  : 
each  man  dips  his  hand  in  the  pot,  takes  out  a  handful, 
and  dances  it  about  till  it  is  fashioned  into  a  ball,  and  then 


94  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

he  eats  it  with  all  the  gusto  in  the  world.  For  our  repast 
we  were  served  with  a  joint  of  roast  mutton,  and  this  being 
cut  up,  we  had  to  take  up  in  our  hands  and  eat  like  any 
savages,  —  their  religion  denying  these  Moors  anything  but 
the  bare  necessities  of  life.  Also,  their  law  forbids  the 
drinking  of  wine,  which  did  most  upset  Jack  Dawson,  he 
having  for  drink  with  his  meat  nothing  but  the  choice  of 
water  and  sour  milk ;  but  which  he  liked  least  I  know  not, 
for  he  would  touch  neither,  saying  he  would  rather  go  dry 
any  day  than  be  poisoned  with  such  liquor. 

Whilst  we  were  at  our  meal,  a  good  many  Moors  came 
in  to  stare  at  us,  as  at  a  raree  show,  and  especially  at  Moll, 
whose  bright  clothes  and  loose  hair  excited  their  curiosity, 
for  their  women  do  rarely  go  abroad,  except  they  be  old, 
and  wear  only  long  dirty  white  robes,  muffling  the  lower 
part  of  their  faces.  None  of  them  smiled,  and  it  is  notice- 
able that  these  people,  like  our  own  Don,  do  never  laugh, 
taking  such  demonstration  as  a  sign  of  weak  understanding 
and  foolishness,  but  watching  all  our  actions  very  intently. 
And  presently  an  old  Moor,  with  a  white  beard  and  more 
cleanly  dressed  than  the  rest,  pushing  the  crowd  aside  to 
see  what  was  forward,  recognised  Don  Sanchez,  who  at 
once  rose  to  his  feet ;  we,  not  to  be  behind  him  in  good 
manners,  rising  also. 

"May  Baba,"  says  the  old  Moor;  and  repeating  this 
phrase  thrice  (which  is  a  sure  sign  of  hearty  welcome),  he 
claps  the  Don's  hand,  without  shaking  it,  and  lays  his  own 
upon  his  breast,  the  Don  doing  likewise.  Then  Don  San- 
chez, introducing  us  as  we  understood  by  his  gestures,  the 
old  Moor  bends  his  head  gravely,  putting  his  right  hand 
first  to  his  heart,  next  to  his  forehead,  and  then  kissing  the 


COME  TO  THE  END  OF  OUR  JOURNEY.      95 

two  foremost  fingers  laid  across  his  lips,  we  replying  as  best 
we  could  with  a  bowing  and  scraping.  These  formalities 
concluded,  the  Don  and  the  old  Moor  walk  apart,  and  we 
squat  down  again  to  our  mutton  bones. 

After  a  lengthy  discussion  the  old  Moor  goes,  and  Don 
Sanchez,  having  paid  the  reckoning,  leads  us  out  of  the 
town  by  many  crooked  alleys  and  cross-passages ;  he  speak- 
ing never  a  word,  and  we  asking  no  questions,  but  marvelling 
exceedingly  what  is  to  happen  next.  And,  following  a  wall 
overhung  by  great  palms,  we  turn  a  corner,  and  find  there 
our  old  Moor  standing  beside  an  open  door  with  a  key  in 
his  hand.  The  old  Moor  gives  the  key  into  Don  Sanchez's 
hand,  and  with  a  very  formal  salutation,  leaves  us. 

Then  following  the  Don  through  the  doorway,  we  find 
ourselves  in  a  spacious  garden,  but  quite  wild  for  neglect ; 
flower  and  weed  and  fruit  all  mingling  madly  together,  but 
very  beautiful  to  my  eye,  nevertheless,  for  the  abundance 
of  colour,  the  richness  of  the  vegetables,  and  the  graceful 
forms  of  the  adjacent  palms. 

A  house  stood  in  the  midst  of  this  wilderness,  and  thither 
Don  Sanchez  picked  his  way,  we  at  his  heels  still  too  amazed 
to  speak.  Beside  the  house  was  a  well  with  a  little  wall 
about  it,  and  seating  himself  on  this,  Don  Sanchez  opens 
his  lips  for  the  first  time. 

"  My  friend,  Sidi  ben  Ahmed,  has  offered  me  the  use  of 
this  place  as  long  as  we  choose  to  stay  here,"  says  he.  "  Go 
look  in  the  house  and  tell  me  if  you  care  to  live  in  it  for  a 
year." 


CHAPTER  X,I. 

Hcnv  Don  Sanchez  very  honestly  offers  to  free  us  of  our  bargain  if  ive 
will ;  but  we  will  not. 

THE  house,  like  nearly  all  Moo-ish  houses  of  this  class, 
was  simply  one  large  and  lofty  room,  with  a  domed  ceiling 
built  of  very  thick  masonry,  to  resist  the  heat  of  the  sun. 
There  was  neither  window  nor  chimney,  the  door  serving 
to  admit  light  and  air,  and  let  out  the  smoke  if  a  fire  were 
lighted  within.  One  half  of  this  chamber  was  dug  out  to 
a  depth  of  a  couple  of  feet,  for  the  accommodation  of  cattle 
(the  litter  being  thrown  into  the  hollow  as  it  is  needed,  and 
nought  removed  till  it  reaches  the  level  of  the  other  floor), 
and  above  this,  about  eight  feet  from  the  ground  and  four 
from  the  roof,  was  a  kind  of  shelf  (the  breadth  and  length 
of  that  half),  for  the  storage  of  fodder  and  a  sleeping-place 
for  the  inhabitants,  with  no  kind  of  partition,  or  any  issue 
for  the  foul  air  from  the  cattle  below. 

"Are  we  to  live  a  year  in  this  hutch?''  asks  Moll,  in 
affright. 

"Have  done  with  your  chatter,  Moll!"  answers  Jack, 
testily.  "Don't  you  see  I'm  a-thinking?  Heaven  knows 
there's  enough  to  swallow  without  any  bugbears  of  your 
raising." 

With  that,  having  finished  his  inspection  of  the  interior, 
he  goes  out  and  looks  at  it  outside. 

"Well,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  "what  think  you  of  the 
house?" 

96 


ENTER    INTO    MOST    SERIOUS    DISCUSSION.  Q/ 

"Why,  Senor,  'tis  no  worse  as  I  can  see  than  any  other 
in  these  parts,  and  hath  this  advantage,  which  they  have 
not,  of  being  in  a  sweet  air.  With  a  bit  of  contrivance  we 
could  make  a  shift  to  live  here  well  enough.  We  should  not 
do  amiss  neither  for  furniture,  seeing  that  'tis  the  custom  of 
the  country  to  eat  off  the  floor  and  sit  upon  nothing.  A  pot 
to  cook  victuals  in  is  about  all  we  need  in  that  way.  But 
how  we  are  to  get  anything  to  .cook  in  it  is  one  mystery, 
and  "  (clacking  his  tongue)  "what  we  are  going  to  drink  is 
another,  neither  of  which  I  can  fathom.  For,  look  you, 
Senor,  if  one  may  judge  of  men's  characters  by  their  faces 
or  of  their  means  by  their  habitations,  we  may  dance  our 
legs  off  ere  ever  these  Moors  will  bestow  a  penny  piece 
upon  us,  and  as  for  their  sour  milk,  I'd  as  lief  drink  hem- 
lock, and  liefer.  Now,  if  this  town  had  been  as  we  counted 
on,  like  Barcelona,  all  had  gone  as  merry  as  a  marriage 
bell,  for  then  might  we  have  gained  enough  to  keep  us  in 
jollity  as  long  as  you  please;  but  here,  if  we  die  not  of 
the  colicks  in  a  week,  'twill  be  to  perish  of  starvation  in  a 
fortnight.  What  say  you,  Kit?  " 

I  was  forced  to  admit  that  I  had  never  seen  a  town  less 
likely  to  afford  a  subsistence  than  this. 

Then  Don  Sanchez,  having  heard  us  with  great  patience, 
and  waited  a  minute  to  see  if  we  could  raise  any  further 
objections,  answers  us  in  measured  tones. 

"I  doubt  not,"  says  he,  "that  with  a  little  ingenuity  you 
may  make  the  house  habitable  and  this  wilderness  agreea- 
ble. My  friend,  Sidi  ben  Ahmed,  has  offered  to  provide 
us  with  what  commodities  are  necessary  to  that  end.  I 
agree  with  you  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  earn  the 
meanest  livelihood  here  by  dancing;  it  would  not  be  ad- 
H 


98  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

visable  if  we  could.  For  that  reason,  my  knowledge  of 
various  tongues  making  me  very  serviceable  to  Sidi  ben 
Ahmed  (who  is  the  most  considerable  merchant  of  this 
town),  I  have  accepted  an  office  in  his  house.  This  will 
enable  me  to  keep  my  engagement  with  you.  You  will 
live  at  my  charge,  as  I  promised,  and  you  shall  want  for 
nothing  in  reason.  If  the  Moors  drink  no  wine  them- 
selves, they  make  excellent  for  those  who  will,  and  you 
shall  not  be  stinted  in  that  particular." 

"Come,  this  sounds  fair  enough,"  cries  Dawson.  "But 
pray,  Senor,  are  we  to  do  nothing  for  our  keep?  " 

"Nothing  beyond  what  we  came  here  to  do,"  replies  he, 
with  a  meaning  glance  at  Moll. 

"What!"  cries  poor  Moll,  in  pain.  "We  are  to  dance 
no  more ! " 

The  Don  shook  his  head  gravely;  and,  remembering  the 
jolly,  vagabond,  careless,  adventurous  life  we  had  led  these 
past  two  months  and  more,  with  a  thousand  pleasant  inci- 
dents of  our  happy  junketings,  we  were  all  downcast  at  the 
prospect  of  living  in  this  place  —  though  a  paradise  —  for 
a  year  without  change. 

"Though  I  promised  you  no  more  than  I  offer,"  says  the 
Don,  "yet  if  this  prospect  displease  you,  we  will  cry  quits 
and  part  here.  Nay,"  adds  he,  taking  a  purse  from  his 
pocket,  "  I  will  give  you  the  means  to  return  to  Alicante, 
where  you  may  live  as  better  pleases  you." 

It  seemed  to  me  that  there  was  an  unfeigned  carelessness 
in  his  manner,  as  if  he  would  as  lief  as  not  throw  up  this 
hazardous  enterprise  for  some  other  more  sure  undertaking. 
And,  indeed,  I  believe  he  was  then  balancing  another 
alternative  in  his  mind. 


WE    WILL    NOT    GO    FROM    OUR    BARGAIN.  99 

At  this  generous  offer  Moll  dashed  away  the  tears  that 
had  sprung  to  her  eyes,  brightening  up  wonderfully,  but 
then,  casting  her  eyes  upon  the  Don,  her  face  fell  again  as 
at  the  thought  of  leaving  him.  For  we  all  admired  him, 
and  she  prodigiously,  for  his  great  reserve  and  many  good 
qualities  which  commanded  respect,  and  this  feeling  was 
tinged  in  her  case,  I  believe,  with  a  kind  of  growing 
affection. 

Seeing  this  sentiment  in  her  eyes,  the  Don  was  clearly 
touched  by  it,  and  so,  laying  his  hand  gently  on  her  shoul- 
der, he  says : 

"  My  poor  child,  remember  you  the  ugly  old  women  we 
saw  dancing  at  Barcelona?  They  were  not  more  than 
forty;  what  will  they  be  like  in  a  few  years?  Who  will 
tolerate  them  ?  who  love  them  ?  Is  that  the  end  you  choose 
for  your  own  life  —  that  the  estate  to  which  our  little  prin- 
cess shall  fall?" 

"No,  no,  no!"  cries  she,  in  a  passion,  clenching  her 
little  hands  and  throwing  up  her  head  in  disdain. 

"And  no,  no,  no,  say  I,"  cries  Dawson.  "Were  our 
case  ten  times  as  bad,  I'd  not  go  back  from  my  word.  As 
it  is,  we  are  not  to  be  pitied,  and  I  warrant  ere  long  we 
make  ourselves  to  be  envied.  Come,  Kit,  rouse  you  out  of 
your  lethargies,  and  let  us  consult  how  we  may  improve  our 
condition  here;  and  do  you,  Senor,  pray  order  us  a  little 
of  that  same  excellent  wine  you  spoke  of,  if  it  be  but  a 
pint,  when  you  feel  disposed  that  way." 

The  Don  inclined  his  head,  but  lingered,  talking  to  Moll 
very  gravely,  and  yet  tenderly,  for  some  while,  Dawson 
and  I  going  into  the  house  to  see  what  we  could  make  of 
it;  and  then,  telling  us  we  should  see  him  no  more  till  the 


IOO  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

next  day,  he  left  us.  But  for  some  time  after  he  was  gone 
Moll  sat  on  the  side  of  the  well,  very  pensive  and  wistful, 
as  one  to  whom  the  future  was  opened  for  the  first 
time. 

Anon  comes  a  banging  at  our  garden  gate,  which  Moll  had 
closed  behind  the  Don;  and,  going  to  it,  we  find  a  Moor- 
ish boy  with  a  barrow  charged  with  many  things.  We 
could  not  understand  a  word  he  said,  but  Dawson  decided 
these  chattels  were  sent  us  by  the  Don,  by  perceiving  a 
huge  hogskin  of  wine,  for  which  he  thanked  God  and 
Don  Sanchez  an  hundred  times  over.  So  these  commodi- 
ties we  carried  up  to  the  house,  marvelling  greatly  at  the 
Don's  forethought  and  generosity,  for  here  were  a  score  of 
things  over  and  above  those  we  had  already  found  ourselves 
lacking;  namely,  earthen  pipkins  and  wooden  vessels,  a 
bag  of  charcoal,  a  box  of  carpenters'  tools  (which  did 
greatly  like  Dawson,  he  having  been  bred  a  carpenter  in 
his  youth),  instruments  for  gardening  (to  my  pleasure,  as 
I  have  ever  had  a  taste  for  such  employment),  some  very 
fine  Moorish  blankets,  etc.  So  when  the  barrow  was  dis- 
charged, Dawson  gives  the  lad  some  rials  out  of  his  pocket, 
which  pleased  him  also  mightily. 

Then,  first  of  all,  Dawson  unties  the  leg  of  the  hogskin, 
and  draws  off  a  quart  of  wine,  very  carefully  securing  the 
leg  after,  and  this  we  drank  to  our  great  refreshment;  and 
next  Moll,  being  awoke  from  her  dreams  and  eager  to  be 
doing,  sets  herself  to  sort  out  our  goods,  such  as  belong  to 
us  (as  tools,  etc.),  on  one  side,  and  such  as  belong  to  her 
(as  pipkins  and  the  rest)  on  the  other.  Leaving  her  to 
this  employment,  Dawson  and  I,  armed  with  a  knife  and 
bagging  hook,  betake  ourselves  to  a  great  store  of  canes 


FALL   TO    HOUSEKEEPING.  IOI 

stacked  in  one  corner  of  the  garden,  and  sorting  out  those 
most  proper  to  our  purpose,  we  lopped  them  all  of  an  equal 
length,  and  shouldering  as  many  as  we  could  carried  them 
up  to  our  house.  Here  we  found  Moll  mighty  jubilant  in 
having  got  her  work  done,  and  admirably  she  had  done  it, 
to  be  sure.  For,  having  found  a  long  recess  in  the  wall, 
she  had  brushed  it  out  clean  with  a  whisp  of  herbs,  and 
stored  up  her  crocks  according  to  their  size,  very  artificial, 
with  a  dish  of  oranges  plucked  from  the  tree  at  our  door 
on  one  side,  and  a  dish  of  almonds  on  the  other,  a  pipkin 
standing  betwixt  'em  with  a  handsome  posey  of  roses  in  it. 
She  had  spread  a  mat  on  the  floor,  and  folded  up  our  fine 
blankets  to  serve  for  cushions;  and  all  that  did  not  belong 
to  her  she  had  bundled  out  of  sight  into  that  hollowed  side 
I  have  mentioned  as  being  intended  for  cattle. 

After  we  had  sufficiently  admired  the  performance,  she 
told  us  she  had  a  mind  to  give  us  a  supper  of  broth. 
"But,"  says  she,  "the  Don  has  forgotten  that  we  must  eat, 
and  hath  sent  us  neither  bread  nor  flesh  nor  salt." 

This  put  us  to  a  stumble,  for  how  to  get  these  things  we 
knew  not;  but  Moll  declared  she  would  get  all  she  needed 
if  we  could  only  find  the  money. 

"Why,  how?"  asks  Jack.  "You  know  not  their  gib- 
berish." 

"That  may  be,"  answers  she,  "but  I  warrant  the  same 
language  that  bought  me  this  petticoat  will  get  us  a  supper." 

So  we  gave  her  what  money  we  had,  and  she  went  off 
a-marketing,  with  as  much  confidence  as  if  she  were  a  born 
Barbary  Moor.  Then  Jack  falls  to  thanking  God  for  bless- 
ing him  with  such  a  daughter,  at  the  same  time  taking 
no  small  credit  to  himself  for  having  bred  her  to  such  per- 


IO2  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

fection,  and  in  the  midst  of  his  encomiums,  being  down 
in  the  hollow  searching  for  his  hammer,  he  cries : 

"  Plague  take  the  careless  baggage !  she  has  spilled  all 
our  nails,  and  here's  an  hour's  work  to  pick  'em  up !  " 

This  accident  was  repaired,  however,  and  Moll's  trans- 
gression forgotten  when  she  returned  with  an  old  woman 
carrying  her  purchases.  Then  were  we  forced  to  admire 
her  skill  in  this  business,  for  she  had  bought  all  that  was 
needful  for  a  couple  of  meals,  and  yet  had  spent  but  half 
our  money.  Now  arose  the  difficult  question  how  to  make 
a  fire,  and  this  Jack  left  us  to  settle  by  our  own  devices,  he 
returning  to  his  own  occupation.  Moll  resolved  we  should 
do  our  cooking  outside  the  house,  so  here  we  built  up  a 
kind  of  grate  with  stones;  and,  contriving  to  strike  a  spark 
with  the  back  of  a  jack-knife  and  a  stone,  upon  a  heap  of 
dried  leaves,  we  presently  blew  up  a  fine  flame,  and  feeding 
this  with  the  ends  of  cane  we  had  cut  and  some  charcoal, 
we  at  last  got  a  royal  fire  on  which  to  set  our  pot  of  mutton. 
And  into  this  pot  we  put  rice  and  a  multitude  of  herbs  from 
the  garden,  which  by  the  taste  we  thought  might  serve  to 
make  a  savoury  mess.  And,  indeed,  when  it  began  to  boil, 
the  odour  was  so  agreeable  that  we  would  have  Jack  come 
out  to  smell  it.  And  he  having  praised  it  very  highly,  we 
in  return  went  in  to  look  at  his  handiwork  and  praise  that. 
This  we  could  do  very  heartily  and  without  hypocrisy,  for 
he  had  worked  well  and  made  a  rare  good  job,  having 
built  a  very  seemly  partition  across  the  room,  by  nailing 
of  the  canes  perpendicularly  to  that  kind  of  floor  that  hung 
over  the  hollowed  portion,  thus  making  us  now  three  rooms 
out  of  one.  At  one  end  he  had  left  an  opening  to  enter 
the  cavity  below  and  the  floor  above  by  the  little  ladder 


EVERY    DOG    HIS    BONE.  IO3 

that  stood  there,  and  these  canes  were  set  not  so  close 
together  but  that  air  and  light  could  pass  betwixt  them,  and 
yet  from  the  outer  side  no  eye  could  see  within,  which 
was  very  commodious.  Also  upon  the  floor  above,  he  had 
found  sundry  bundles  of  soft  dried  leaves,  and  these,  opened 
out  upon  the  surface  of  both  chambers,  made  a  very  sweet, 
convenient  bed  upon  which  to  lie.  Then  Dawson  offering 
Moll  her  choice,  she  took  the  upper  floor  for  her  chamber, 
leaving  us  two  the  lower;  and  so,  it  being  near  sundown 
by  this  time,  we  to  our  supper  in  the  sweet,  cool  air  of 
evening,  all  mightily  content  with  one  another,  and  not 
less  satisfied  with  our  stew,  which  was  indeed  most  savoury 
and  palatable.  This  done,  we  took  a  turn  round  our  little 
domain,  admiring  the  many  strange  and  wonderful  things 
that  grew  there  (especially  the  figs,  which,  though  yet 
green,  were  wondrous  pleasant  to  eat) ;  and  I  laying  out  my 
plans  for  the  morrow,  how  to  get  this  wilderness  into  order, 
tear  out  the  worthless  herbs,  dig  the  soil,  etc.,  Dawson' s 
thoughts  running  on  the  building  of  an  outhouse  for  the 
accommodation  of  our  wine,  tools,  and  such  like,  and 
Moll  meditating  on  dishes  to  give  us  for  our  repasts.  And 
at  length,  when  these  divers  subjects  were  no  more  to  be 
discussed,  we  turned  into  our  dormitories,  and  fell  asleep 
mighty  tired,  but  as  happy  as  princes. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

A  brief  summary  of  those  twelve  months  we  spent  at  Elche. 

THE  surprising  activity  with  which  we  attacked  our  domes- 
tic business  at  Elche  lasted  about  two  days  and  a  half, — 
Dawson  labouring  at  his  shed,  I  at  the  cultivation  of  the 
garden,  and  Moll  quitting  her  cooking  and  household  affairs, 
as  occasion  permitted,  to  lend  a  helping  hand  first  to  her 
father  and  then  to  me.  And  as  man,  when  this  fever  of 
enterprise  is  upon  him,  must  for  ever  be  seeking  to  add  to 
his  cares,  we  persuaded  Don  Sanchez  to  let  us  have  two 
she-goats  to  stall  in  the  shed  and  consume  our  waste  herb- 
age, that  we  might  have  milk  and  get  butter,  which  they  do 
in  these  parts  by  shaking  the  cream  in  a  skin  bag  (a  method 
that  seems  simple  enough  till  you  have  been  shaking  the 
bag  for  twenty  minutes  in  vain  on  a  sultry  morning)  with- 
out cost.  But  the  novelty  of  the  thing  wearing  off,  our 
eagerness  rapidly  subsided,  and  so  about  the  third  day  (as 
I  say) ,  the  heat  being  prodigious,  we  toiled  with  no  spirit  at  all. 

Dawson  was  the  first  to  speak  his  mind.  Says  he,  com- 
ing to  me  whilst  I  was  still  sweating  over  my  shovel : 

"  I've  done  it,  but  hang  me  if  I  do  more.  There's  a 
good  piece  of  work  worth  thirty  shillings  of  any  man's 
money,  but  who'll  give  me  a  thank  ye  for  it  when  we  leave 
here  next  year?  " 

And  then  he  can  find  nothing  better  to  do  than  fall 
a-commenting  on  my  labours,  saying  there  was  but  precious 

104 


THE  PLEASURES  OF  INDUSTRY.         10$ 

little  to  show  for  my  efforts,  that  had  he  been  in  my  place 
he  would  have  ordered  matters  otherwise,  and  begun  dig- 
ging t'other  end,  wagering  that  I  should  give  up  my  job 
before  it  was  quarter  done,  etc.,  all  which  was  mighty  dis- 
couraging and  the  more  unpleasant  because  I  felt  there  was 
a  good  deal  of  truth  in  what  he  said. 

Consequently,  I  felt  a  certain  malicious  enjoyment  the 
next  morning  upon  finding  that  the  goats  had  burst  out  one 
side  of  his  famous  shed,  and  got  loose  into  the  garden,  which 
enabled  me  to  wonder  that  two  such  feeble  creatures  could 
undo  such  a  good  thirty  shillings'  worth  of  work,  etc.  But 
ere  I  was  done  galling  him,  I  myself  was  mortified  exceed- 
ingly to  find  these  mischievous  brutes  had  torn  up  all  the 
plants  I  had  set  by  the  trees  in  the  shade  as  worthy  of  culti- 
vation, which  gave  Jack  a  chance  for  jibing  at  me.  But 
that  which  embittered  us  as  much  as  anything  was  to  have 
Moll  holding  her  sides  for  laughter  at  our  attempts  to  catch 
these  two  devilish  goats,  which  to  our  cost  we  found  were 
not  so  feeble,  after  all ;  for  getting  one  up  in  a  corner,  she 
raises  herself  up  on  her  hind  legs  and  brings  her  skull  down 
with  such  a  smack  on  my  knee  that  I  truly  thought  she  had 
broke  my  cramp-bone,  whilst  t'other,  taking  Dawson  in  the 
ankles  with  her  horns,  as  he  was  reaching  forward  to  lay 
hold  of  her,  lay  him  sprawling  in  our  little  stream  of  water. 
Nor  do  I  think  we  should  ever  have  captured  them,  but 
that,  giving  over  our  endeavours  from  sheer  fatigue,  they  of 
their  own  accord  sauntered  into  the  shed  for  shelter  from 
the  sun,  where  Moll  clapt  to  the  door  upon  them,  and  set 
her  back  against  the  gap  in  the  side,  until  her  father  came 
with  a  hammer  and  some  stout  nails  to  secure  the  planks. 
So  for  the  rest  of  that  day  Jack  and  I  lay  on  our  backs  in 


IO6  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

the  shade,  doing  nothing,  but  exceedingly  sore  one  against 
the  other  for  these  mischances. 

But  our  heart  burnings  ended  not  there  ;  for  coming  in  to 
supper  at  sundown,  Moll  has  nothing  to  offer  us  but  dry 
bread  and  a  dish  of  dates,  which,  though  it  be  the  common 
supper  of  the  Moors  in  this  place,  was  little  enough  to  our 
satisfaction,  as  Dawson  told  her  in  pretty  round  terms,  ask- 
ing her  what  she  was  good  for  if  not  to  give  us  a  meal  fit  for 
Christians,  etc.,  and  stating  very  explicitly  what  he  would 
have  her  prepare  for  our  dinner  next  day.  Moll  takes  her 
upbraiding  very  humbly  (which  was  ever  a  bad  sign),  and 
promises  to  be  more  careful  of  our  comfort  in  the  future. 
And  so  ended  that  day. 

The  next  morning  Dawson  and  I  make  no  attempt  at 
work,  but  after  breakfast,  by  common  accord,  stretch  us 
out  under  the  palms  to  meditate ;  and  there  about  half  past 
ten,  Don  Sanchez,  coming  round  to  pay  us  a  visit,  finds  us 
both  sound  asleep.  A  sudden  exclamation  from  him  aroused 
us,  and  as  we  stumbled  to  our  feet,  staring  about  us,  we 
perceived  Moll  coming  from  the  house,  but  so  disfigured 
with  smuts  of  charcoal  all  over  her  face  and  hands,  we  scarce 
knew  her. 

"  God's  mercy  !  "  cries  the  Don.  "  What  on  earth  have 
you  been  doing,  child?" 

To  which  Moll  replies  with  a  curtsey  : 

"  I  am  learning  to  be  a  cook- wench,  Senor,  at  my  father's 
desire." 

"You  are  here,"  answers  the  Don,  with  a  frown,  "  to  learn 
to  be  a  lady.  If  a  cook- wench  is  necessary,  you  shall  have 
one"  (this  to  us),  "and  anything  else  that  my  means  may 
afford.  You  will  do  well  to  write  me  a  list  of  your  require- 


FALL    INTO    A    VERY    SLOTHFUL    HABIT.  IO/ 

ments ;  but  observe,"  adds  he,  turning  on  his  heel,  "  we  may 
have  to  stay  here  another  twelvemonth,  if  my  economies 
are  not  sufficient  by  the  end  of  the  first  year  to  take  us 
hence." 

This  hint  brought  us  to  our  senses  very  quickly,  and  over- 
taking him  ere  he  reached  our  garden  gate,  Dawson  and  I 
assured  the  Don  we  had  no  need  of  any  servant,  and  would 
be  careful  that  Moll  henceforth  did  no  menial  office ;  that 
we  would  tax  his  generosity  no  more  than  we  could  help, 
etc.,  to  our  great  humiliation  when  we  came  to  reflect  on 
our  conduct. 

Thenceforth  Dawson  charged  himself  with  the  internal 
economy  of  the  house,  and  I  with  that  part  which  concerned 
the  custody  and  care  of  the  goats,  the  cultivation  of  pot- 
herbs and  with  such  instruction  of  Moll  in  the  Italian  tongue 
as  I  could  command.  But  to  tell  the  truth,  we  neither  of 
us  did  one  stroke  of  work  beyond  what  was  absolutely  nec- 
essary, and  especially  Dawson,  being  past  everything  for 
indolence,  did  so  order  his  part  that  from  having  two  dishes 
of  flesh  a  day,  we  came,  ere  long,  to  getting  but  one  mess  a 
week;  he  forcing  himself  and  us  to  be  content  with  dates 
and  bread  for  our  repasts,  rather  than  give  himself  the 
trouble  of  boiling  a  pot.  Beyond  browsing  my  goats, 
drawing  their  milk  (the  making  of  butter  I  quickly  re- 
nounced), and  watering  my  garden  night  and  morn  (which 
is  done  by  throwing  water  from  the  little  stream  broadcast 
with  a  shovel  on  either  side),  I  did  no  more  than  Dawson, 
but  joined  him  in  yawning  the  day  away,  for  which  my  sole 
excuse  is  the  great  heat  of  this  region,  which  doth  beget 
most  slothful  humours  in  those  matured  in  cooler  climes. 

With   Moll,  however,  the   case  was  otherwise;  for  she, 


IO8  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

being  young  and  of  an  exceeding  vivacious,  active  dispo- 
sition, must  for  ever  be  doing  of  something,  and  lucky  for  us 
when  it  was  not  some  mischievous  trick  at  our  expense  —  as 
letting  the  goats  loose,  shaking  lemons  down  on  our  heads 
as  we  lay  asleep  beneath  it,  and  the  like.  Being  greatly 
smitten  with  the  appearance  of  the  Moorish  women  (who, 
though  they  are  not  permitted  to  wander  about  at  will  like 
our  women,  are  yet  suffered  to  fetch  water  from  the  public 
fountains),  she  surprised  us  one  morning  by  coming  forth 
dressed  in  their  mode.  And  this  dress,  which  seems  to  be 
nought  but  a  long  sheet  wound  loosely  twice  or  thrice  about 
the  body,  buckled  on  the  shoulder,  with  holes  for  the  arms 
to  be  put  through  in  the  manner  of  the  old  Greeks,  became 
her  surprisingly ;  and  we  noticed  then  for  the  first  time  that 
her  arms  were  rounder  and  fuller  than  when  we  had  last 
seen  them  bare.  Then,  to  get  the  graceful,  noble  bearing 
of  the  Moors,  she  practised  day  after  day  carrying  a 
pitcher  of  water  on  her  head  as  they  do,  until  she  could  do 
this  with  perfect  ease  and  sureness.  In  this  habit  the  Don, 
who  was  mightily  pleased  with  her  looks,  took  her  to  the 
house  of  his  friend  and  employer,  Sidi  ben  Ahmed,  where 
she  ingratiated  herself  so  greatly  with  the  women  of  his 
household  that  they  would  have  her  come  to  them  again 
the  next  day,  and  after  that  the  next,  —  indeed,  thenceforth 
she  spent  far  more  of  her  time  with  these  new  friends  than 
with  us.  And  here,  from  the  necessity  of  making  herself 
understood,  together  with  an  excellent  memory  and  a 
natural  aptitude,  she  learned  to  speak  the  Moorish  tongue 
in  a  marvellously  short  space  of  time.  Dawson  and  I  were 
frequently  asked  to  accompany  Moll,  and  we  went  twice  to 
this  house,  which,  though  nothing  at  all  to  look  at  outside, 


UNCOMMON    INDOLENT,    BUT    DISSATISFIED.       IOQ 

was  very  magnificently  furnished  within,  and  the  entertain- 
ment most  noble.  But  Lord  !  'twas  the  most  tedious,  weari- 
some business  for  us,  who  could  make  out  never  a  word  of 
the  civil  speeches  offered  us  without  the  aid  of  Don  Sanchez 
and  Moll,  and  then  could  think  of  no  witty  response,  but 
could  only  sit  there  grinning  like  Gog  and  Magog.  Still,  it 
gave  us  vast  pleasure  to  see  how  Moll  carried  herself  with 
this  company,  talking  as  freely  as  they,  yet  holding  herself 
with  the  dignity  of  an  equal,  and  delighting  all  by  her 
vivacity  and  sly,  pretty  ways. 

I  think  no  country  in  Europe  can  be  richer  than  this 
Elche  in  fruits  and  vegetation,  more  beautiful  in  its  sur- 
rounding aspects  of  plain  and  mountain,  more  blessed  with 
constant,  glorious  sunlight ;  and  the  effect  of  these  charms 
upon  the  quick,  receptive  spirit  of  our  Molly  was  like  a 
gentle  May  upon  a  nightingale,  so  that  the  days  were  all  too 
short  for  her  enjoyment,  and  she  must  need  vent  her  happi- 
ness in  song;  but  on  us  they  made  no  more  impression 
than  on  two  owls  in  a  tower,  nay,  if  anything  they  did  add  to 
that  weariness  which  arose  from  our  lack  of  occupation. 
For  here  was  no  contrast  in  our  lives,  one  day  being  as  like 
another  as  two  peas  in  a  pod,  and  having  no  sort  of  adver- 
sities to  give  savour  to  our  ease,  we  found  existence  the 
most  flat,  insipid,  dull  thing  possible.  I  remember  how,  on 
Christmas  day,  Dawson  did  cry  out  against  the  warm  sun- 
shine as  a  thing  contrary  to  nature,  wishing  he  might  stand 
up  to  his  knees  in  snow  in  a  whistling  wind,  and  taking  up 
the  crock  Moll  had  filled  with  roses  (which  here  bloom 
more  fully  in  the  depth  of  winter  than  with  us  in  the  height 
of  summer) ,  he  flung  it  out  of  the  door  with  a  curse  for  an 
unchristian  thing  to  have  in  the  house  on  such  a  day. 


HO  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

As  soon  as  the  year  had  turned,  we  began  to  count  the 
days  to  our  departure,  and  thenceforth  we  could  think  of 
nought  but  what  we  would  do  with  our  fortune  when  we  got 
it ;  and,  the  evenings  being  long,  we  would  set  the  bag  of 
wine  betwixt  us  after  our  supper  of  dates,  and  sit  there  for 
hours  discussing  our  several  projects.  Moll  being  with  us 
(for  in  these  parts  no  womankind  may  be  abroad  after 
sundown),  she  would  take  part  in  these  debates  with  as 
much  gusto  as  we.  For  though  she  was  not  wearied  of 
her  life  here  as  we  were,  yet  she  was  possessed  of  a  very 
stirring  spirit  of  adventure,  and  her  quick  imagination  fur- 
nished endless  visions  of  lively  pleasures  and  sumptuous 
living.  We  agreed  that  we  would  live  together,  and  share 
everything  in  common  as  one  family,  but  not  in  such  an 
outlandish  spot  as  Chislehurst.  That  estate  we  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with ;  but,  selling  it  at  once,  have  in  its 
place  two  houses,  —  one  city  house  in  the  Cheap,  and  a 
country  house  not  further  from  town  than  Bednal  Green, 
or  Clerkenwell  at  the  outside,  to  the  end  that  when  we 
were  fatigued  with  the  pleasures  of  the  town,  we  might, 
by  an  easy  journey,  resort  to  the  tranquillity  of  rural  life, 
Dawson  declaring  what  wines  he  would  have  laid  down  in 
our  cellars,  I  what  books  should  furnish  our  library,  and 
Moll  what  dresses  she  would  wear  (not  less  than  one  for 
every  month  of  the  year),  what  coaches  and  horses  we 
should  keep,  what  liveries  our  servants  should  wear,  what 
entertainments  we  would  give,  and  so  forth.  Don  Sanchez 
was  not  excluded  from  our  deliberations;  indeed,  he  en- 
couraged us  greatly  by  approving  of  all  our  plans,  only 
stipulating  that  we  would  guard  one  room  for  him  in  each 
of  our  houses,  that  he  might  feel  at  home  in  our  society 


DISCOURSE    OF    RETURNING   TO    ENGLAND.         Ill 

whenever  he  chanced  to  be  in  our  neighbourhood.  In  all 
these  arguments,  there  was  never  one  word  of  question 
from  any  of  us  as  to  the  honesty  of  our  design.  We  had 
settled  that,  once  and  for  all,  before  starting  on  this  expedi- 
tion ;  and  since  then,  little  by  little,  we  had  come  to  regard 
the  Godwin  estate  as  a  natural  gift,  as  freely  to  be  taken 
as  a  blackberry  from  the  hedge.  Nay,  I  believe  Dawson 
and  I  would  have  contested  our  right  to  it  by  reason  of 
the  pains  we  were  taking  to  possess  it. 

And  now,  being  in  the  month  of  June,  and  our  year  of 
exile  (as  it  liked  us  to  call  it)  nigh  at  an  end,  Dawson  one 
night  put  the  question  to  Don  Sanchez,  which  had  kept 
us  fluttering  in  painful  suspense  these  past  six  months, 
whether  he  had  saved  sufficient  by  his  labours,  to  enable 
us  to  return  to  England  ere  long. 

"  Yes,"  says  he,  gravely,  at  which  we  did  all  heave  one 
long  sigh  of  relief,  "  I  learn  that  a  convoy  of  English  ships 
is  about  to  sail  from  Alicante  in  the  beginning  of  July,  and 
if  we  are  happy  enough  to  find  a  favourable  opportunity, 
we  will  certainly  embark  in  one  of  them." 

"Pray,  Senor,"  says  I,  "what  may  that  opportunity  be; 
for  'tis  but  two  days'  march  hence  to  Alicante,  and  we 
may  do  it  with  a  light  foot  in  one." 

"The  opportunity  I  speak  of,"  answers  he,  "is  the  arrival, 
from  Algeria,  of  a  company  of  pirates,  whose  good  service 
I  hope  to  engage  in  putting  us  aboard  an  English  ship 
under  a  flag  of  truce  as  redeemed  slaves  from  Barbary." 

"  Pirates  ! "  cry  we,  in  a  low  breath. 

"What,  Senor!"  adds  Dawson,  "are  we  to  trust  our- 
selves to  the  mercy  and  honesty  of  Barbary  pirates  on  the 
open  sea?" 


112  A   SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"  I  would  rather  trust  to  their  honesty,"  answers  the  Don, 
dropping  his  voice  that  he  might  not  be  heard  by  Moll, 
who  was  leading  home  the  goats,  "  than  to  the  mercy  of  an 
English  judge,  if  we  should  be  brought  to  trial  with  insuffi- 
cient evidence  to  support  our  story." 

Jack  and  I  stared  at  each  other  aghast  at  this  talk  of 
trial,  which  had  never  once  entered  into  our  reckoning  of 
probabilities. 

"If  I  know  aught  of  my  fellow-men,"  continues  .the  Don, 
surely  and  slow,  "  that  grasping  steward  will  not  yield  up 
his  trust  before  he  has  made  searching  enquiry  into  Moll's 
claim,  act  she  her  part  never  so  well.  We  cannot  refuse 
to  give  him  the  name  of  the  ship  that  brought  us  home,  and, 
learning  that  we  embarked  at  Alicante,  jealous  suspicion 
may  lead  him  to  seek  further  information  there  ;  with  what 
result?" 

"  Why,  we  may  be  blown  with  a  vengeance,  if  he  come 
ferreting  so  nigh  as  that,"  says  Dawson,  "and  we  are  like 
to  rot  in  gaol  for  our  pains." 

"You  may  choose  to  run  that  risk;  I  will  not,"  says  the 
Don. 

"Nor  I  either,"  says  Dawson,  "and  God  forgive  me  for 
overlooking  such  a  peril  to  my  Moll.  But,  do  tell  me 
plainly,  Senor,  granting  these  pirates  be  the  most  honest 
thieves  in  the  world,  is  there  no  other  risk  to  fear?  " 

The  Don  hunched  his  shoulders. 

"  Life  itself  is  a  game,"  says  he,  "  in  which  the  meanest 
stroke  may  not  be  won  without  some  risk ;  but,  played  as  I 
direct,  the  odds  are"  in  our  favour.  Picked  up  at  sea  from 
an  Algerine  boat,  who  shall  deny  our  story  when  the  evi- 
dence against  us  lies  there  "  (laying  his  hand  out  towards 


VAST  CHANGE  IN  MOLL.  113 

the  south) ,  "  where  no  man  in  England  dare  venture  to 
seek  it?" 

"Why,  to  be  sure,"  says  Dawson;  "that  way  all  hangs 
together  to  a  nicety.  For  only  a  wizard  could  dream  of 
coming  hither  for  our  undoing." 

"For  the  rest,"  continues  the  Don,  thoughtfully,  "there 
is  little  to  fear.  Judith  Godwin  has  eyes  the  colour  of 
Moll's,  and  in  all  else  Simon  must  expect  to  find  a  change 
since  he  last  saw  his  master's  daughter.  They  were  in  Italy 
three  years.  That  would  make  Judith  a  lisping  child  when 
she  left  England.  He  must  look  to  find  her  altered.  Why," 
adds  he,  in  a  more  gentle  voice,  as  if  moved  by  some  inner 
feeling  of  affection  and  admiration,  nodding  towards  Moll, 
"  see  how  she  has  changed  in  this  little  while.  I  should  not 
know  her  for  the  raw,  half-starved  spindle  of  a  thing  she 
was  when  I  saw  her  first  playing  in  the  barn  at  Tottenham 
Cross." 

Looking  at  her  now  (browsing  the  goats  amongst  my  most 
cherished  herbs) ,  I  was  struck  also  by  this  fact,  which,  living 
with  her  day  by  day,  had  slipped  my  observation  somewhat. 
She  was  no  longer  a  gaunt,  ungainly  child,  but  a  young 
woman,  well  proportioned,  with  a  rounded  cheek  and  chin, 
brown  tinted  by  the  sun,  and,  to  my  mind,  more  beautiful 
than  any  of  their  vaunted  Moorish  women.  But,  indeed, 
in  this  country  all  things  do  mature  quickly ;  and  'twas  less 
surprising  in  her  case  because  her  growth  had  been  checked 
before  by  privation  and  hardship,  whereas  since  our  coming 
hither  it  had  been  aided  by  easy  circumstances  and  good 
living. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Of  our  coming  to  London  (T.vith  incidents  by  the  way},  and  of  the  great 
address  whereby  Moll  confounds  Simon,  the  steward. 

ON  the  third  day  of  July,  all  things  falling  in  pat  with 
the  Don's  design,  we  bade  farewell  to  Elche,  Dawson  and 
I  with  no  sort  of  regret,  but  Moll  in  tears  at  parting  from 
those  friends  she  had  grown  to  love  very  heartily.  And 
these  friends  would  each  have  her  take  away  something  for 
a  keepsake,  such  as  rings  to  wear  on  her  arms  and  on  her 
ankles  (as  is  the  Moorish  fashion),  silk  shawls,  etc.,  so 
that  she  had  quite  a  large  present  of  finery  to  carry  away; 
but  we  had  nothing  whatever  but  the  clothes  we  stood  in, 
and  they  of  the  scantiest,  being  simply  long  shirts  and 
"bernouses"  such  as  common  Moors  wear.  For  the  wise 
Don  would  let  us  take  nought  that  might  betray  our  sojourn 
in  Spain,  making  us  even  change  our  boots  for  wooden 
sandals,  he  himself  being  arrayed  no  better  than  we.  Nor 
was  this  the  only  change  insisted  on  by  our  governor;  for 
on  Dawson  bidding  Moll  in  a  surly  tone  to  give  over  a 
shedding  of  tears,  Don  Sanchez  turns  upon  him,  and  says 
he: 

"  It  is  time  to  rehearse  the  parts  we  are  to  play.  From 
this  day  forth  your  daughter  is  Mistress  Judith  Godwin, 
you  are  Captain  Robert  Evans,  and  you"  (to  me),  "Mr. 
Hopkins,  the  merchant.  Let  us  each  play  our  part  with 
care,  that  we  do  not  betray  ourselves  by  a  slip  in  a  moment 
of  unforeseen  danger." 

114 


SET  US  ALL  ABOARD  AN  ALGERINE.      11$ 

"You  are  in  the  right,  Senor,"  answers  Jack,  "for  I  doubt 
it  must  be  a  hard  task  to  forget  that  Mistress  Judith  is  my 
daughter,  as  it  is  for  a  loving  father  to  hold  from  chiding 
of  his  own  flesh  and  blood;  so  I  pray  you,  Madam"  (to 
Moll),  "bear  that  in  mind  and  vex  me  no  more." 

We  lay  this  lesson  seriously  to  heart,  Dawson  and  I,  for 
the  Don's  hint  that  we  might  end  our  career  in  gaol  did 
still  rankle  woundily  in  our  minds.  And  so  very  soberly 
we  went  out  of  the  forest  of  Elche  in  the  night  on  mules 
lent  us  by  Sidi  ben  Ahmed,  with  a  long  cavalcade  of  mules 
charged  with  merchandise  for  embarking  on  board  the 
pirates'  vessel,  and  an  escort  of  some  half-dozen  fierce- 
looking  corsairs  armed  with  long  firelocks  and  a  great 
store  of  awesome  crooked  knives  stuck  in  their  waist-cloths. 

After  journeying  across  the  plain,  we  came  about  mid- 
day to  the  seaboard,  and  there  we  spied,  lying  in  a  shel- 
tered bay,  a  long  galley  with  three  masts,  each  dressed  with 
a  single  cross-spar  for  carrying  a  leg-of-mutton  sail,  and  on 
the  shore  a  couple  of  ship's  boats  with  a  company  of  men 
waiting  to  transport  our  goods  and  us  aboard.  And  here 
our  hearts  quaked  a  bit  at  the  thought  of  trusting  ourselves 
in  the  hands  of  these  same  murderous-looking  pirates. 
Nevertheless,  when  our  time  came  we  got  us  into  their  boat, 
recommending  ourselves  very  heartily  to  God's  mercy,  and 
so  were  rowed  out  to  the  galley,  where  we  were  very  civilly 
received  by  an  old  Moor  with  a  white  beard,  who  seemed 
well  acquainted  with  Don  Sanchez.  Then  the  merchan- 
dise being  all  aboard,  and  the  anchor  up,  the  men  went  to 
their  oars,  a  dozen  of  each  side,  and  rowed  us  out  of  the 
bay  until,  catching  a  little  wind  of  air,  the  sails  were  run 
up,  and  we  put  out  to  sea  very  bravely. 


Il6  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"Senor,"  says  Dawson,  "I  know  not  how  I  am  to  play 
this  part  of  a  sea-captain  when  we  are  sent  on  board  an 
English  ship,  for  if  they  ask  me  any  questions  on  this 
business  of  navigating,  I  am  done  for  a  certainty." 

"Rest  easy  on  that  score,  Evans,"  replies  the  Don. 
"  I  will  answer  for  you,  for  I  see  very  clearly  by  your  com- 
plexion that  you  will  soon  be  past  answering  them 
yourself." 

And  this  forecast  was  quickly  verified;  for  ere  the  galley 
had  dipped  a  dozen  times  to  the  waves,  poor  Dawson  was 
laid  low  with  a  most  horrid  sickness  like  any  dying  man. 

By  sundown  we  sighted  the  island  of  Maggiore,  and  in 
the  roads  there  we  cast  anchor  for  the  night,  setting  sail 
again  at  daybreak;  and  in  this  latitude  we  beat  up  and 
down  a  day  and  a  night  without  seeing  any  sail,  but  on  the 
morning  of  the  third  day  a  fleet  of  five  big  ships  appeared 
to  the  eastward,  and  shifting  our  course  we  bore  down 
upon  them  with  amazing  swiftness.  Then  when  we  were 
near  enough  to  the  foremast  to  see  her  English  flag  and  the 
men  aboard  standing  to  their  deck  guns  for  a  defence,  our 
old  Moor  fires  a  gun  in  the  air,  takes  in  his  sails,  and  runs 
up  a  great  white  flag  for  a  sign  of  peace.  And  now  with 
shrewd  haste  a  boat  was  lowered,  and  we  were  set  in  it  with 
a  pair  of  oars,  and  the  old  pirate  bidding  us  farewell  in  his 
tongue,  clapt  on  all  sail  and  stood  out  before  the  wind, 
leaving  us  there  to  shift  for  ourselves.  Don  Sanchez  took 
one  oar,  and  I  t'other,  — Dawson  lying  in  the  bottom  and 
not  able  to  move  a  hand  to  save  his  life,  —  and  Moll  held 
the  tiller,  and  so  we  pulled  with  all  our  force,  crying  out 
now  and  then  for  fear  we  should  not  be  seen,  till  by  God's 
providence  we  came  alongside  the  Talbot  of  London,  and 


ARE   TAKEN    ABOARD    OF    AN    ENGLISH    SHIP.      I  \J 

were  presently  hoisted  aboard  without  mishap.  Then  the 
captain  of  the  Talbot  and  his  officers  gathering  about  us 
were  mighty  curious  to  know  our  story,  and  Don  Sanchez 
very  briefly  told  how  we  had  gone  in  the  Red  Rose  of  Bris- 
tol to  redeem  two  ladies  from  slavery;  how  we  had  found 
but  one  of  these  ladies  living  (at  this  Moll  buries  her  face  in 
her  hands  as  if  stricken  with  grief);  how,  on  the  eve  of  our 
departure,  some  of  our  crew  in  a  drunken  frolic  had 
drowned  a  Turk  of  Alger,  for  which  we  were  condemned 
by  their  court  to  pay  an  indemnity  far  and  away  beyond 
our  means;  how  they  then  made  this  a  pretext  to  seize  our 
things,  though  we  were  properly  furnished  with  the  Duke's 
pass,  and  hold  our  men  in  bond;  and  how  having  plun- 
dered us  of  all  we  had,  and  seeing  there  was  no  more  to  be 
got,  they  did  offer  us  our  freedom  for  a  written  quittance 
of  all  they  had  taken  for  their  justification  if  ever  they 
should  be  brought  to  court;  and  finally,  how,  accepting  of 
these  conditions,  we  were  shipped  aboard  their  galley  with 
nothing  in  the  world  but  a  few  trifles,  begged  by  Mistress 
Judith  in  remembrance  of  her  mother. 

This  story  was  accepted  without  any  demur;  nay,  Cap- 
tain Ballcock,  being  one  of  those  men  who  must  ever  appear 
to  know  all  things,  supported  it  in  many  doubtful  par- 
ticulars, saying  that  he  remembered  the  Rose  of  Bristol 
quite  well;  that  he  himself  had  seen  a  whole  ship's 
crew  sold  into  slavery  for  no  greater  offence  than  breaking 
a  mosque  window;  that  the  Duke's  pass  counted  for  noth- 
ing with  these  Turks;  that  he  knew  the  galley  we  were 
brought  in  as  well  as  he  knew  Paul's  Church,  having 
chased  it  a  dozen  times,  yet  never  got  within  gunshot  for 
her  swift  sailing,  etc.,  which  did  much  content  us  to  hear. 


Il8  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

But  the  officers  were  mighty  curious  to  know  what  ailed 
Captain  Robert  Evans  (meaning  Dawson),  fearing  he 
might  be  ill  of  the  plague;  however,  on  the  Don's  vowing 
that  he  was  only  sick  of  a  surfeit,  Captain  Ballcock  de- 
clared he  had  guessed  it  the  moment  he  clapt  eyes  on  him, 
as  he  himself  had  been  taken  of  the  same  complaint  with 
only  eating  a  dish  of  pease  pudding.  Nevertheless,  he 
ordered  the  sick  man  to  be  laid  in  a  part  of  the  ship 
furthest  from  his  quarters,  and  so  great  was  the  dread  of 
pestilence  aboard  that  (as  his  sickness  continued)  not  a 
soul  would  venture  near  him  during  the  whole  voyage 
except  ourselves,  which  also  fell  in  very  well  with  our 
wishes.  And  so  after  a  fairly  prosperous  voyage  we  came 
up  the  Thames  to  Chatham,  the  third  day  of  August. 

We  had  been  provided  with  some  rough  seamen's  clothes 
for  our  better  covering  on  the  voyage ;  but  now,  being 
landed,  and  lodged  in  the  Crown  inn  at  Chatham,  Don 
Sanchez  would  have  the  captain  take  them  all  back. 

"  But,"  says  he,  "  if  you  will  do  us  yet  another  favour, 
Captain,  will  you  suffer  one  of  your  men  to  carry  a  letter  to 
Mistress  Godwin's  steward  at  Chislehurst,  that  he  may  come 
hither  to  relieve  us  from  our  present  straits  ?  " 

"Aye,"  answers  he,  "I  will  take  the  letter  gladly,  myself; 
for  nothing  pleases  me  better  than  a  ramble  in  the  country 
where  I  was  born  and  bred." 

So  Moll  writes  a  letter  at  once  to  Simon,  bidding  him 
come  at  once  to  her  relief;  and  Captain  Ballcock,  after 
carefully  enquiring  his  way  to  this  place  he  knew  so  well 
(as  he  would  have  us  believe) ,  starts  off  with  it,  accompanied 
by  his  boatswain,  a  good-natured  kind  of  lick-spittle,  who 
never  failed  to  back  up  his  captain's  assertions,  which  again 


ALL  MATTERS  FALL  PAT  TO  OUR  PURPOSE.   I IQ 

was  to  our  great  advantage  ;  for  Simon  would  thus  learn 
our  story  from  his  lips,  and  find  no  room  to  doubt  its 
veracity. 

As  soon  as  these  two  were  out  of  the  house,  Dawson,  who 
had  been  carried  from  the  ship  and  laid  in  bed,  though  as 
hale  since  we  passed  the  Godwins  as  ever  he  was  in  his 
life  before,  sprang  up,  and  declared  he  would  go  to  bed  no 
more,  for  all  the  fortunes  in  the  world,  till  he  had  supped 
on  roast  pork  and  onions,  —  this  being  a  dish  he  greatly 
loved,  but  not  to  be  had  at  Elche,  because  the  Moors  by 
their  religion  forbid  the  use  of  swine's  flesh,  —  and  seeing 
him  very  determined  on  this  head,  Don  Sanchez  ordered  a 
leg  of  pork  to  be  served  in  our  chamber,  whereof  Dawson 
did  eat  such  a  prodigious  quantity,  and  drank  therewith 
such  a  vast  quantity  of  strong  ale  (which  he  protested  was 
the  only  liquor  an  Englishman  could  drink  with  any  satis- 
faction), that  in  the  night  he  was  seized  with  most  severe 
cramp  in  his  stomach.  This  gave  us  the  occasion  to  send 
for  a  doctor  in  the  morning,  who,  learning  that  Jack  had 
been  ill  ever  since  we  left  Barbary,  and  not  understand- 
ing his  present  complaint,  pulled  a  very  long  face,  and, 
declaring  his  case  was  very  critical,  bled  him  copiously, 
forbade  him  to  leave  his  bed  for  another  fortnight,  and  sent 
him  in  half  a  dozen  bottles  of  physic.  About  midday  he 
returns,  and,  finding  his  patient  no  better,  administers  a 
bolus ;  and  while  we  are  all  standing  about  the  bed,  and 
Dawson  the  colour  of  death,  and  groaning,  betwixt  the 
nausea  of  the  drug  he  had  swallowed  and  the  cramp  in 
his  inwards,  in  comes  our  Captain  Ballcock  and  the  little 
steward. 

"  There  !  "  cries  he,  turning  on  Simon,  "  did  not  I  tell  you 


120  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

that  my  old  friend  Evans  lay  at  death's  door  with  the  treat- 
ment he  hath  received  of  these  Barbary  pirates?  Now 
will  you  be  putting  us  off  with  your  doubts  and  your  question- 
ings? Shall  I  have  up  my  ship's  company  to  testify  to  the 
truth  of  my  history?  Look  you,  Madam,"  (to  Moll),  "we 
had  all  the  trouble  in  the  world  to  make  this  steward  of 
yours  do  your  bidding ;  but  he  should  have  come  though  we 
had  to  bring  him  by  the  neck  and  heels,  and  a  pox  to  him 
—  saving  your  presence." 

"But  this  is  not  Simon,"  says  Moll,  with  a  pretty  air  of 
innocence.  "  I  seem  to  remember  Simon  a  bigger  man 
than  he." 

"  You  must  consider,  Madam,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  "  that 
then  you  were  very  small,  scarce  higher  than  his  waist, 
maybe,  and  so  you  would  have  to  look  up  into  his  face." 

"  I  did  not  think  of  that.  And  are  you  really  Simon, 
who  used  to  scold  me  for  plucking  fruit?" 

"Yea,  verily,"  answers  he.  "Doubt  it  not,  for  thou  also 
hast  changed  beyond  conception.  And  so  it  hath  come  to 
pass  ! "  he  adds,  staring  round  at  us  in  our  Moorish  garb 
like  one  bewildered.  "And  thou  art  my  mistress  now" 
(turning  again  to  Moll) . 

"  Alas  ! "  says  she,  bowing  her  head  and  covering  her 
eyes  with  her  hand. 

"  Han't  I  told  you  so,  unbelieving  Jew  Quaker  !  "  growls 
Captain  Ballcock,  in  exasperation.  "  Why  will  you  plague 
the  unhappy  lady  with  her  loss  ?  " 

"  We  will  leave  Evans  to  repose,"  says  Moll,  brushing  her 
eyes  and  turning  to  the  door.  "  You  will  save  his  life,  Doc- 
tor, for  he  has  given  me  mine." 

The  doctor  vowed  he  would,  if  bleeding   and   boluses 


MOLL  BEGINS  HER  PART  IN  GOOD  EARNEST.   121 

could  make  him  whole,  and  so,  leaving  him  with  poor 
groaning  Dawson,  we  went  into  the  next  chamber.  And 
there  Captain  Ballcock  was  for  taking  his  leave ;  but  Moll, 
detaining  him,  says  : 

"  We  owe  you  something  more  than  gratitude  —  we  have 
put  you  to  much  expense." 

"  Nay,"  cries  he.  "I  will  take  nought  for  doing  a  com- 
mon act  of  mercy." 

"  You  shall  not  be  denied  the  joy  of  generosity,"  says  she, 
with  a  sweet  grace.  "  But  you  must  suffer  me  to  give  your 
ship's  company  some  token  of  my  gratitude."  Then  turn- 
ing to  Simon  with  an  air  of  authority,  she  says,  "  Simon,  I 
have  no  money." 

The  poor  man  fumbled  in  his  pocket,  and  bringing  out 
a  purse,  laid  it  open,  showing  some  four  or  five  pieces  of  sil- 
ver and  one  of  gold,  which  he  hastily  covered  with  his  hand. 

"  I  see  you  have  not  enough,"  says  Moll,  and  taking  up 
a  pen  she  quickly  wrote  some  words  on  a  piece  of  paper, 
signing  it  "  Judith  Godwin."  Then  showing  it  to  Simon, 
she  says,  "  You  will  pay  this  when  it  is  presented  to  you," 
and  therewith  she  folds  it  and  places  it  in  the  captain's 
hand,  bidding  him  farewell  in  a  pretty  speech. 

"  A  hundred  pounds  !  a  hundred  pounds  !  "  gasps  Simon, 
under  his  breath,  in  an  agony  and  clutching  up  his  purse  to 
his  breast. 

"  I  am  astonished,"  says  Moll,  returning  from  the  door, 
and  addressing  Simon,  with  a  frown  upon  her  brow,  "  that 
you  are  not  better  furnished  to  supply  my  wants,  knowing 
by  my  letter  how  I  stand." 

"  Mistress,"  replies  he,  humbly,  "  here  is  all  I  could  raise 
upon  such  sudden  notice  "  —  laying  his  purse  before  her. 


122  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"What  is  this?"  cries  she,  emptying  the  contents  upon 
the  table.  "  Tis  nothing.  Here  is  barely  sufficient  to  pay 
for  our  accommodation  in  this  inn.  Where  is  the  money 
to  discharge  my  debt  to  these  friends  who  have  lost  all 
in  saving  me?  You  were  given  timely  notice  of  their 
purpose." 

"  Prithee,  be  patient  with  me,  gentle  mistress.  Tis  true, 
I  knew  of  their  intent,  but  they  were  to  have  returned 
in  six  months,  and  when  they  came  not  at  the  end  of  the 
year  I  did  truly  give  up  all  for  lost ;  and  so  I  made  a  fresh 
investment  of  thy  fortune,  laying  it  out  all  in  life  bonds 
and  houses,  to  great  worldly  advantage,  as  thou  shalt  see  in 
good  time.  Ere  long  I  may  get  in  some  rents  —  " 

"  And  in  the  meanwhile  are  we  to  stay  in  this  plight  —  to 
beg  for  charity?"  asks  Moll,  indignantly. 

"Nay,  mistress.  Doubtless  for  your  present  wants  this 
kind  merchant  friend — " 

"We  have  lost  all,"  says  I,  "Evans  his  ship,  and  I  the 
lading  in  which  all  my  capital  was  embarked." 

"  And  I  every  maravedi  I  possessed,"  adds  the  Don. 

"And  had  they  not,"  cries  Moll,  "were  they  possessed 
now  of  all  they  had,  think  you  that  I  with  an  estate,  as  I  am 
told,  of  sixty  thousand  pounds  would  add  to  the  debt  I  owe 
them  by  one  single  penny  ! " 

"  If  I  may  speak  in  your  steward's  defence,  Madam,"  says 
I,  humbly,  "  I  would  point  out  that  the  richest  estate  is  not 
always  readily  converted  into  money.  'Tis  like  a  rich  jewel 
which  the  owner,  though  he  be  starving,  must  hold  till  he 
find  a  market." 

"Thee  nearest  him,  mistress,"  cries  Simon,  in  delight. 
"  A  man  of  business  —  a  merchant  who  knows  these  things. 


DO    BUSTLE    OLD    SIMON    MOST    FINELY.  123 

Explain  it  further,  friend,  for  thine  are  words  of  precious 
wisdom." 

"With  landed  property  the  case  is  even  more  difficult. 
Tenants  cannot  be  forced  to  pay  rent  before  it  is  due,  nor 
can  their  messuages  be  sold  over  their  heads.  And  possibly 
all  your  capital  is  invested  in  land —  " 

"  Every  farthing  that  could  be  scraped  together,"  says 
Simon,  "and  not  a  rood  of  it  but  is  leased  to  substantial 
men.  Oh !  what  excellent  discourse  !  Proceed  further, 
friend." 

"Nevertheless,"  says  I,  "there  are  means  of  raising  money 
upon  credit.  If  he  live  there  still,  there  is  a  worthy  Jew  in 
St.  Mary  Axe,  who  upon  certain  considerations  of  interest  —  " 

"  Hold,  friend,"  cries  Simon.  "  What  art  thee  thinking 
of  ?  Wouldst  deliver  my  simple  mistress  into  the  hands  of 
Jew  usurers?" 

"  Not  without  proper  covenants  made  out  by  lawyers  and 
attorneys." 

"  Lawyers,  attorneys,  and  usurers  !  Heaven  have  mercy 
upon  us  !  Verily,  thee  wouldst  infest  us  with  a  pest,  and 
bleed  us  to  death  for  our  cure." 

"  I  will  have  such  relief  as  I  may,"  says  Moll ;  "  so  pray,  sir, 
do  send  for  these  lawyers  and  Jews  at  once,  and  the  quicker, 
since  my  servant  seems  more  disposed  to  hinder  than  to 
help  me." 

"  Forbear,  mistress ;  for  the  love  of  God,  forbear  !  "  cries 
Simon,  in  an  agony,  clasping  his  hands.  "  Be  not  misguided 
by  this  foolish  merchant,  who  hath  all  to  gain  and  nought 
to  lose  by  this  proceeding.  Give  me  but  a  little  space,  and 
their  claims  shall  be  met,  thy  desires  shall  be  satisfied,  and 
yet  half  of  thy  estate  be  saved,  which  else  must  be  all 


124  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

devoured  betwixt  these  ruthless  money-lenders  and  lawyers. 
I  can  make  a  covenant  more  binding  than  any  attorney,  as 
I  have  proved  again  and  again,  and  "  (with  a  gulp)  "if  money 
must  be  raised  at  once,  I  know  an  honest,  a  fairly  honest, 
goldsmith  in  Lombard  Street  who  will  lend  at  the  market 
rate." 

"These  gentlemen,"  answers  Moll,  turning  to  us,  "may 
not  choose  to  wait,  and  I  will  not  incommode  them  for  my 
own  convenience." 

"  Something  for  our  present  need  we  must  have,  Madam," 
says  the  Don,  with  a  significant  glance  at  his  outlandish  dress ; 
"but  those  wants  supplied,  /am  content  to  wait." 

"And  you,  sir?"  says  Moll  to  me. 

"With  a  hundred  or  two,"  says  I,  taking  Don  Sanchez's 
hint,  "  we  may  do  very  well  till  Michaelmas." 

"Be  reasonable,  gentlemen,"  implores  Simon,  mopping 
his  eyes,  which  ran  afresh  at  this  demand.  "  Tis  but  some 
five  or  six  weeks  to  Michaelmas  ;  surely  fifty  pounds —  " 

"  Silence  ! "  cries  Moll,  with  an  angry  tap  of  her  foot. 
"Will  three  hundred  content  you,  gentlemen?  Consider, 
the  wants  of  our  good  friend,  Captain  Evans,  may  be  more 
pressing  than  yours." 

"  He  is  a  good,  honest,  simple  man,  and  I  think  we  may 
answer  for  his  accepting  the  conditions  we  make  for  our- 
selves. Then,  with  some  reasonable  guarantee  for  our 
future  payment  —  " 

"That  may  be  contrived  to  our  common  satisfaction,  I 
hope,"  says  Moll,  with  a  gracious  smile.  "  I  owe  you  half 
my  estate ;  share  my  house  at  Chislehurst  with  me  till  the 
rest  is  forthcoming.  That  will  give  me  yet  a  little  longer 
the  pleasure  of  your  company.  And  there,  sir,"  turning  to 


CARRY    IT    VERY    HIGH    TO    THE    END.  12$ 

me,  "  you  can  examine  my  steward's  accounts  for  your  own 
satisfaction,  and  counsel  me,  mayhap,  upon  the  conduct  of 
my  affairs,  knowing  so  much  upon  matters  of  business  that 
are  incomprehensible  to  a  simple,  inexperienced  maid. 
Then,  should  you  find  aught  amiss  in  my  steward's  books, 
anything  to  shake  your  confidence  in  his  management,  you 
will,  in  justice  to  your  friends,  in  kindness  to  me,  speak 
your  mind  openly,  that  instant  reformation  may  be  made." 

Don  Sanchez  and  I  expressed  our  agreement  to  this  pro- 
posal, and  Moll,  turning  to  the  poor,  unhappy  steward,  says 
in  her  high  tone  of  authority : 

"You  hear  how  this  matter  is  ordered,  Simon.  Take  up 
that  purse  for  your  own  uses.  Go  into  the  town  and  send 
such  tradesmen  hither  as  may  supply  us  with  proper  cloth- 
ing. Then  to  your  goldsmith  in  Lombard  Street  and  bring 
me  back  six  hundred  pounds." 

"  Six  —  hundred  —  pounds  !  "  cries  he,  hardly  above  his 
breath,  and  with  a  pause  between  each  word  as  if  to  gain 
strength  to  speak  'em. 

"  Six  hundred.  Three  for  these  gentlemen  and  three  for 
rny  own  needs ;  when  that  is  done,  hasten  to  Chislehurst 
and  prepare  my  house ;  and,  as  you  value  my  favour,  see 
that  nothing  is  wanting  when  I  come  there." 

And  here,  lest  it  should  be  thought  that  Moll  could  not 
possibly  play  her  part  so  admirably  in  this  business,  despite 
the  many  secret  instructions  given  by  the  longheaded  Don,  I 
do  protest  that  I  have  set  down  no  more  than  I  recollect, 
and  that  without  exaggeration.  Further,  it  must  be  ob- 
served that  in  our  common  experience  many  things  happen 
which  would  seem  incredible  but  for  the  evidence  of  our 


126  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

senses,  and  which  no  poet  would  have  the  hardihood  to 
represent.  Tis  true  that  in  this,  as  in  other  more  surprising 
particulars  to  follow,  Moll  did  surpass  all  common  women ; 
but  'tis  only  such  extraordinary  persons  that  furnish  material 
for  any  history.  And  I  will  add  that  anything  is  possible  to 
one  who  hath  the  element  of  greatness  in  her  composition, 
and  that  it  depends  merely  on  the  accident  of  circumstances 
whether  a  Moll  Dawson  becomes  a  great  saint  or  a  great 
sinner  —  a  blessing  or  a  curse  to  humanity. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

Lay  our  hands  on  six  hundred  pounds  and  quarter  ourselves  in 
Hurst  Court,  but  stand  in  a  fair  way  to  be  undone  by  Dawson,  his 
folly. 

THE  next  day  comes  Simon  with  a  bag  of  six  hundred 
pounds,  which  he  tells  over  with  infinite  care,  groaning 
and  mopping  his  eyes  betwixt  each  four  or  five  pieces  with 
a  most  rueful  visage,  so  that  it  seemed  he  was  weeping  over 
this  great  expenditure,  and  then  he  goes  to  prepare  the 
Court  and  get  servants  against  Moll's  arrival.  By  the 
end  of  the  week,  being  furnished  with  suitable  clothing 
and  equipment,  Moll  and  Don  Sanchez  leave  us,  though 
Dawson  was  now  as  hale  and  hearty  as  ever  he  had  been, 
we  being  persuaded  to  rest  at  Chatham  yet  another  week,  to 
give  countenance  to  Jack's  late  distemper,  and  also  that  we 
might  appear  less  like  a  gang  of  thieves. 

Before  going,  Don  Sanchez  warned  us  that  very  likely 
Simon  would  pay  us  a  visit  suddenly,  to  satisfy  any  doubts 
that  might  yet  crop  up  in  his  suspicious  mind;  and  so,  to 
be  prepared  for  him,  I  got  in  a  good  store  of  paper  and 
books,  such  as  a  merchant  might  require  in  seeking  to  re- 
establish himself  in  business,  and  Dawson  held  himself  in 
readiness  to  do  his  share  of  this  knavish  business. 

Sure  enough,  about  three  days  after  this,  the  drawer,  who 
had  been  instructed  to  admit  no  one  to  my  chamber  with- 
out my  consent,  comes  up  to  say  that  the  little  old  man 

127 


128  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

in  leather,  with  the  weak  eyes,  would  see  me;  so  I  bade  him 
in  a  high  voice  bid  Mr.  Simon  step  up,  and  setting  myself 
before  my  table  of  paper,  engage  in  writing  a  letter  (already 
half  writ),  while  Dawson  slips  out  into  the  next  room. 

"Take  a  seat,  Mr.  Steward,"  says  I,  when  Simon  entered, 
cap  in  hand,  and  casting  a  very  prying,  curious  look 
around.  "I  must  keep  you  a  minute  or  two";  and  so  I 
feign  to  be  mighty  busy,  and  give  him  scope  for  observation. 

"Well,  sir,"  says  I,  finishing  my  letter  with  a  flourish, 
and  setting  it  aside.  "How  do  you  fare?  " 

He  raised  his  hands,  and  dropped  them  like  so  much 
lead  on  his  knees,  casting  up  his  eyes  and  giving  a  doleful 
shake  of  his  head  for  a  reply. 

"  Nothing  is  amiss  at  the  Court,  I  pray  —  your  lady  Mis- 
tress Godwin  is  well?  " 

"I  know  not,  friend,"  says  he.  "She  hath  taken  my 
keys,  denied  me  entrance  to  her  house,  and  left  me  no 
privilege  of  my  office  save  the  use  of  the  lodge  house. 
Thus  am  I  treated  like  a  faithless  servant,  after  toiling 
night  and  day  all  these  years,  and  for  her  advantage,  rather 
than  mine  own." 

"That  has  to  be  proved,  Mr.  Steward,"  says  I,  severely; 
"  for  you  must  admit  that  up  to  this  present  she  has  had  no 
reason  to  love  you,  seeing  that,  had  her  fate  been  left  in 
your  hands,  she  would  now  be  in  Barbary,  and  like  to  end 
her  days  there.  How,  then,  can  she  think  but  that  you  had 
some  selfish,  wicked  end  in  denying  her  the  service  we,  who 
are  strangers,  have  rendered  her?" 

"  Thee  speakest  truth,  friend,  and  yet  thee  knowest  that 
I  observed  only  the  righteous  prudence  of  an  honest  ser- 
vant." 


DISCOURSE    OF    SIMON.  I2Q 

"We  will  say  no  more  on  that  head,  but  you  may  rest 
assured  on  my  promise  —  knowing  as  I  do  the  noble,  gen- 
erous nature  of  your  mistress  —  that  if  she  has  done  you 
wrong  in  suspecting  you  of  base  purpose,  she  will  be  the 
first  to  admit  her  fault  and  offer  you  reparation." 

"  I  seek  no  reparation,  no  reward,  nothing  in  the  world 
but  the  right  to  cherish  this  estate,"  cries  he,  in  passion; 
and,  upon  my  looking  at  him  very  curiously,  as  not  under- 
standing the  motive  of  such  devotion,  he  continues :  "  Thee 
canst  not  believe  me,  and  yet  truly  I  am  neither  a  liar  nor 
a  madman.  What  do  others  toil  for?  A  wife  —  children 
—  friends  —  the  gratification  of  ambition  or  lust !  I  have 
no  kith  or  kin,  no  ambition,  no  lust;  but  this  estate  is 
wife,  child,  everything,  to  me.  'Tis  like  some  work  of 
vanity, —  a  carved  image  that  a  man  may  give  his  whole 
life  to  making,  and  yet  die  content  if  he  achieves  but  some 
approach  to  the  creation  of  his  soul.  I  have  made  this 
estate  out  of  nothing;  it  hath  grown  larger  and  larger, 
richer  and  more  rich,  in  answer  to  my  skill;  why  should  I 
not  love  it,  and  put  my  whole  heart  in  the  accomplishment 
of  my  design,  with  the  same  devotion  that  you  admire  in 
the  maker  of  graven  images?  " 

Despite  his  natural  infirmities,  Simon  delivered  this 
astonishing  rhapsody  with  a  certain  sort  of  vehemence  that 
made  it  eloquent;  and  indeed,  strange  as  his  passion  was, 
I  could  not  deny  that  it  was  as  reasonable  in  its  way  as  any 
nobler  act  of  self-sacrifice. 

"I  begin  to  understand  you,  Mr.  Steward,"  says  I. 

"Then,  good  friend,  as  thee  wouldst  help  the  man  in 
peril  of  being  torn  from  his  child,  render  me  this  estate  to 
govern;  save  it  from  the  hands  of  usurers  and  lawyers, 


I3O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

men  of  no  conscience,  to  whom  this  Spanish  Don  would 
deliver  it  for  the  speedy  satisfaction  of  his  greed." 

"Nay,  my  claim's  as  great  as  his,"  says  I,  "and  my 
affairs  more  pressing"  (with  a  glance  at  my  papers).  "I 
am  undone,  my  credit  lost,  my  occupation  gone." 

"  Thee  shalt  be  paid  to  the  last  farthing.  Examine  my 
books,  enquire  into  the  value  of  my  securities,  and  thee 
wilt  find  full  assurance." 

"Well,  one  of  these  days  mayhap,"  says  I,  as  if  to  put 
him  off. 

"Nay,  come  at  once,  I  implore  thee;  for  until  I  am 
justified  to  my  mistress,  I  stand  like  one  betwixt  life  and 
death." 

"For  one  thing,"  says  I,  still  shuffling,  "I  can  do  noth- 
ing, nor  you  either,  to  the  payment  of  our  just  claim, 
before  the  inheritance  is  safely  settled  upon  Mistress 
Godwin." 

"That  shall  be  done  forthwith.  I  understand  the  intri- 
cacies of  the  law,  and  know  my  way  "  (tapping  his  head 
and  then  his  pocket),  "to  get  a  seal,  with  ten  times  the 
despatch  of  any  attorney.  I  promise  by  Saturday  thee 
shalt  have  assurance  to  thy  utmost  requirement.  Say, 
good  friend,  thee  wilt  be  at  my  lodge  house  on  that 
day." 

"I'll  promise  nothing,"  says  I.  "Our  poor  Captain 
Evans  is  still  a  prisoner  in  his  room." 

"Aye,"  says  Dawson,  coming  in  from  the  next  room,  in 
his  nightgown,  seeming  very  feeble  and  weak  despite  his 
blustering  voice,  "and  I'm  like  to  be  no  better  till  I  can 
get  a  ship  of  my  own  and  be  to  sea  again.  Have  you 
brought  my  money,  Mr.  Quaker?  " 


SET    OUT    FOR    CHISLEHURST.  13! 

"Thee  shalt  have  it  truly;  wait  but  a  little  while,  good 
friend,  a  little  while." 

"Wait  a  little  while  and  founder  altogether,  eh?  I  know 
you  land  sharks,  and  would  I'd  been  born  with  a  smack  of 
your  cunning;  then  had  I  never  gone  of  this  venture,  and 
lost  my  ship  and  twoscore  men,  that  money'll  ne'er  re- 
place. Look  at  me,  a  sheer  hulk  and  no  more,  and  all 
through  lending  ear  to  one  prayer  and  another.  I  doubt 
you're  minded  to  turn  your  back  on  poor  old  Bob  Evans, 
as  t' others  have,  Mr.  Hopkins, —  and  why  not?  The  poor 
old  man's  worth  nothing,  and  cannot  help  himself."  With 
this  he  fell  a-snivelling  like  any  girl. 

"I  vow  I'll  not  quit  you,  Evans,  till  you're  hale  again." 

"Bring  him  with  thee  o'  Saturday,"  urged  Simon. 
"Surely,  my  mistress  can  never  have  the  heart  to  refuse 
you  shelter  at  the  Court,  who  owes  her  life  to  ye.  Come 
and  stay  there  till  thy  wage  be  paid,  friend  Evans." 

"  What !  would  ye  make  an  honest  sailor  play  bum-bailiff, 
and  stick  in  a  house,  willy  nilly,  till  money's  found  ?  Plague 
of  your  dry  land !  Give  me  a  pitching  ship  and  a  rolling 
sea,  and  a  gale  whistling  in  my  shrouds.  Oh,  my  reins, 
my  reins !  give  me  a  paper  of  tobacco,  Mr.  Hopkins,  and  a 
pipe  to  soothe  this  agony,  or  I  shall  grow  desperate !  " 

I  left  the  room  as  if  to  satisfy  this  desire,  and  Simon 
followed,  imploring  me  still  to  come  on  Saturday  to  Chisle- 
hurst;  and  I  at  length  got  rid  of  him  by  promising  to  come 
as  soon  as  Evans  could  be  left  or  induced  to  accompany  me. 

I  persuaded  Dawson,  very  much  against  his  gree,  to 
delay  our  going  until  Monday,  the  better  to  hoodwink  old 
Simon;  and  on  that  day  we  set  out  for  Chislehurst,  both 
clad  according  to  our  condition, —  he  in  rough  frieze,  and 


132  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

I  in  a  very  proper,  seemly  sort  of  cloth, —  and  with  more 
guineas  in  our  pockets  than  ever  before  we  had  possessed 
shillings.  And  a  very  merry  journey  this  was;  for  Dawson, 
finding  himself  once  more  at  liberty,  and  hearty  as  a  lark 
after  his  long  confinement  and  under  no  constraint,  was 
like  a  boy  let  loose  from  school.  Carolling  at  the  top  of 
his  voice,  playing  mad  pranks  with  all  who  passed  us  on 
the  road,  and  staying  at  every  inn  to  drink  twopenny  ale, 
so  that  I  feared  he  would  certainly  fall  ill  of  drinking,  as  he 
had  before  of  eating;  but  the  exercise  of  riding,  the  fresh, 
wholesome  air,  and  half  an  hour's  doze  in  a  spinney,  did 
settle  his  liquor,  and  so  he  reached  Hurst  Court  quite 
sober,  thanks  be  to  Heaven,  though  very  gay.  And  there 
we  had  need  of  all  our  self-command,  to  conceal  our  joy 
in  finding  those  gates  open  to  us,  which  we  had  looked 
through  so  fondly  when  we  were  last  here,  and  to  spy  Moll, 
in  a  stately  gown,  on  the  fine  terrace  before  this  noble 
house,  carrying  herself  as  if  she  had  lived  here  all  her  life, 
and  Don  Sanchez  walking  very  deferential  by  her  side. 
Especially  Dawson  could  scarce  bring  himself  to  speak  to 
her  in  an  uncouth,  surly  manner,  as  befitted  his  character, 
and  no  sooner  were  we  entered  the  house  but  he  whips  Moll 
behind  a  door,  and  falls  a-hugging  and  kissing  her  like  any 
sly  young  lover. 

Whilst  he  was  giving  way  to  these  extravagances,  which 
Moll  had  not  the  heart  to  rebuff, —  for  in  her  full,  warm 
heart  she  was  as  overjoyed  to  see  him  there  as  he  her,  — 
Don  Sanchez  and  I  paced  up  and  down  the  spacious  hall, 
I  all  of  a  twitter  lest  one  or  other  of  the  servants  might  dis- 
cover the  familiarity  of  these  two  (which  must  have  been  a 
fine  matter  for  curious  gossip  in  the  household  and  else- 


DAWSON    LIKE    TO    SPOIL    ALL.  133 

where),  and  the  Don  mighty  sombre  and  grave  (as  foresee- 
ing an  evil  outcome  of  this  business),  so  that  he  would 
make  no  answer  to  my  civilities  save  by  dumb  gestures, 
showing  he  was  highly  displeased.  But  truly  'twas  enough 
to  set  us  all  crazy,  but  he,  with  joy,  to  be  in  possession  of 
all  these  riches  and  think  that  we  had  landed  at  Chatham 
scarce  a  fortnight  before  without  decent  clothes  to  our 
backs,  and  now,  but  for  the  success  of  our  design,  might 
be  the  penniless  strolling  vagabonds  we  were  when  Don 
Sanchez  lighted  on  us. 

Presently  Moll  came  out  from  the  side  room  with  her 
father,  her  hair  all  tumbled,  and  as  rosy  as  a  peach,  and 
she  would  have  us  visit  the  house  from  top  to  bottom, 
showing  us  the  rooms  set  apart  for  us,  her  own  chamber, 
the  state  room,  the  dining-hall,  the  store  closets  for  plate 
and  linen,  etc.,  all  prodigious  fine  and  in  most  excellent 
condition;  for  the  scrupulous  minute  care  of  old  Simon 
had  suffered  nothing  to  fall  out  of  repair,  the  rooms  being 
kept  well  aired,  the  pictures,  tapestries,  and  magnificent 
furniture  all  preserved  fresh  with  linen  covers  and  the  like. 
From  the  hall  she  led  us  out  on  to  the  terrace  to  survey 
the  park  and  the  gardens  about  the  house,  and  here,  as 
within  doors,  all  was  in  most  admirable  keeping,  with  no 
wild  growth  or  runaweeds  anywhere,  nor  any  sign  of 
neglect.  But  I  observed,  as  an  indication  of  the  steward's 
thrifty,  unpoetic  mind,  that  the  garden  beds  were  planted 
with  onions  and  such  marketable  produce,  in  place  of  flowers, 
and  that  instead  of  deer  grazing  upon  the  green  slopes  of 
the  park  there  was  only  such  profitable  cattle  as  sheep, 
cows,  etc.  And  at  the  sight  of  all  this  abundance  of  good 
things  (and  especially  the  well-stored  buttery),  Dawson 


134  A  SET  OF  ROGUES. 

declared  he  could  live  here  all  his  life  and  never  worry. 
And  with  that,  all  unthinkingly,  he  lays  his  arm  about 
Moll's  waist. 

Then  the  Don,  who  had  followed  us  up  and  down  stairs, 
speaking  never  one  word  till  this,  says,  "We  may  count 
ourselves  lucky,  Captain  Evans,  if  we  are  suffered  to  stay 
here  another  week." 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

Prosper  as  well  as  any  thieves  may;  but  Dauuson  greatly  tormented. 

THE  next  morning  I  went  to  Simon  at  his  lodge  house, 
having  writ  him  a  note  overnight  to  prepare  him  for  my 
visit,  and  there  I  found  him,  with  all  his  books  and  papers 
ready  for  my  examination.  So  to  it  we  set,  casting  up 
figures,  comparing  accounts,  and  so  forth,  best  part  of  the 
day,  and  in  the  end  I  came  away  convinced  that  he  was 
the  most  scrupulous,  honest  steward  ever  man  had.  And, 
truly,  it  appeared  that  by  his  prudent  investments  and 
careful  management  he  had  trebled  the  value  of  the  estate, 
and  more,  in  the  last  ten  years.  He  showed  me,  also,  that 
in  all  his  valuations  he  had  set  off  a  large  sum  for  loss  by 
accident  of  fire,  war,  etc.,  so  that  actually  at  the  present 
moment  the  estate,  which  he  reckoned  at  seventy-five  thou- 
sand pounds,  was  worth  at  the  least  one  hundred  and 
twenty-five  thousand.  But  for  better  assurance  on  this 
head,  I  spent  the  remainder  of  the  week  in  visiting  the 
farms,  messuages,  etc.,  on  his  rent  roll,  and  found  them  all 
in  excellent  condition,  and  held  by  good  substantial  men, 
nothing  in  any  particular  but  what  he  represented  it. 

Reporting  on  these  matters  privily  to  Don  Sanchez  and 
Dawson,  I  asked  the  Don  what  we  should  now  be  doing. 

"Two  ways  lie  before  us,"  says  he,  lighting  a  cigarro. 
"Put  Simon  out  of  his  house  —  and  make  an  enemy  of 
him,"  adds  he,  betwixt  two  puffs  of  smoke,  "seize  his 


136  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

securities,  sell  them  for  what  they  wiU  fetch,  and  get  out 
of  the  country  as  quickly  as  possible.  If  the  securities  be 
worth  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand  pounds,  we 
may"  (puff)  "possibly"  (puff)  "get  forty  thousand  for 
them"  (puff),  "about  a  third  of  their  value  —  not  more. 
That  yields  us  ten  thousand  apiece.  On  ten  thousand 
pounds  a  man  may  live  like  a  prince  —  in  Spain.  The 
other  way  is  to  make  a  friend  of  Simon  by  restoring  him 
to  his  office,  suffer  him  to  treble  the  worth  of  the  estate 
again  in  the  next  ten  years,  and  live  like  kings  "  (puff)  "  in 
England." 

"Pray,  which  way  do  you  incline,  Senor?"  says  I. 

"Being  a  Spaniard,"  answers  he,  gravely,  "I  should 
prefer  to  live  like  a  prince  in  Spain." 

"That would  not  I,"  says  Dawson,  stoutly.  "A  year  and 
a  half  of  Elche  have  cured  me  of  all  fondness  for  foreign 
parts.  Besides,  'tis  a  beggarly,  scurvy  thing  to  fly  one's 
country,  as  if  we  had  done  some  unhandsome,  dishonest 
trick.  If  I  faced  an  Englishman,  I  should  never  dare  look 
him  straight  in  the  eyes  again.  What  say  you,  Mr.  Hop- 
kins? " 

"Why,  Evans,"  says  I,  "you  know  my  will  without  tell- 
ing. I  will  not,  of  my  own  accord,  go  from  your  choice, 
which  way  you  will." 

"Since  we  owe  everything  to  Mistress  Judith,"  observes 
the  Don,  "  and  as  she  is  no  longer  a  child,  ought  not  her 
wishes  to  be  consulted?  " 

"No,"  says  Jack,  very  decidedly,  and  then,  lowering  his 
voice,  he  adds,  "  for  was  she  Judith  Godwin  ten  times  told, 
and  as  old  as  my  grandmother  into  the  bargain,  she  is  still 
my  daughter,  and  shall  do  as  I  choose  her  to  do.  And  if, 


BEGIN    TO    TELL    OUR    UNHATCHED    CHICKS.         137 

as  you  say,  we  owe  her  everything,  then  I  count  'twould  be 
a  mean,  dirty  return  to  make  her  live  out  of  England  and 
feel  she  has  a  sneaking  coward  for  a  father." 

"As  you  please,"  says  the  Don.  "Give  me  ten  thou- 
sand of  the  sum  you  are  to  be  paid  at  Michaelmas,  and 
you  are  welcome  to  all  the  rest." 

"You  mean  that,  Senor,"  cries  Jack,  seizing  the  Don's 
hand  and  raising  his  left. 

"  By  the  Holy  Mother,"  answers  Don  Sanchez,  in  Spanish. 

"Done! "  cries  Dawson,  bringing  his  hand  down  with  a 
smack  on  the  Don's  palm.  "Nay,  I  always  believed  you 
was  the  most  generous  man  living.  Ten  from  t'other. 
Master  Hopkins,"  says  he,  turning  to  me,  "what  does  that 
leave  us?" 

"More  than  a  hundred  thousand !  " 

"The  Lord  be  praised  for  evermore!  "  cries  Jack. 

Upon  this,  Moll,  by  the  advice  of  Don  Sanchez,  sends 
for  Simon,  and  telling  him  she  is  satisfied  with  the  account 
I  have  given  of  his  stewardship,  offers  him  the  further  con- 
trol of  her  affairs,  subject  at  all  times  to  her  decision  on 
any  question  concerning  her  convenience,  and  reserving  to 
herself  the  sole  government  of  her  household,  the  ordering 
of  her  home,  lands,  etc.  And  Simon  grasping  eagerly  at 
this  proposal,  she  then  gives  him  the  promise  of  one  thou- 
sand pounds  for  his  past  services,  and  doubles  the  wages 
due  to  him  under  his  contract  with  Sir  R.  Godwin. 

"Give  me  what  it  may  please  thee  to  bestow  that  way," 
cries  he.  "  All  shall  be  laid  out  to  enrich  this  property. 
I  have  no  other  use  for  money,  no  other  worldly  end  in  life 
but  that." 

And  when  he  saw  me  next  he  was  most  slavish  in  his 


138  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

thanks  for  my  good  offices,  vowing  I  should  be  paid  my 
claim  by  Michaelmas,  if  it  were  in  the  power  of  man  to 
raise  so  vast  a  sum  in  such  short  space. 

Surely,  thinks  I,  there  was  never  a  more  strange,  origi- 
nal creature  than  this,  yet  it  do  seem  to  me  that  there  is 
no  man  but  his  passion  must  appear  a  madness  to  others. 

I  must  speak  now  of  Moll,  her  admirable  carriage  and 
sober  conduct  in  these  new  circumstances,  which  would 
have  turned  the  heads  of  most  others.  Never  once  to  my 
knowledge  did  she  lose  her  self-possession,  on  the  most 
trying  occasion,  and  this  was  due,  not  alone  to  her  own 
shrewd  wit  and  understanding,  but  to  the  subtle  intelli- 
gence of  Don  Sanchez,  who  in  the  character  of  an  old  and 
trusty  friend  was  ever  by  her  side,  watchful  of  her  interest 
(and  his  own),  ready  at  any  moment  to  drop  in  her  ear  a 
quiet  word  of  warning  or  counsel.  By  his  advice  she  had 
taken  into  her  service  a  most  commendable,  proper  old 
gentlewoman,  one  Mrs.  Margery  Butterby,  who,  as  being 
the  widow  of  a  country  parson,  was  very  orderly  in  all 
things,  and  particularly  nice  in  the  proprieties.  This 
notable  good  soul  was  of  a  cheery,  chatty  disposition,  of 
very  pleasing  manners,  and  a  genteel  appearance,  and  so, 
though  holding  but  the  part  of  housekeeper,  she  served  as 
an  agreeable  companion  and  a  respectable  guardian,  whose 
mere  presence  in  the  house  silenced  any  question  that 
might  have  arisen  from  the  fact  of  three  men  living  under 
the  same  roof  with  the  young  and  beautiful  mistress  of 
Hurst  Court.  Moreover,  she  served  us  as  a  very  useful 
kind  of  mouthpiece;  for  all  those  marvellous  stories  of  her 
life  in  Barbary,  of  the  pirates  we  had  encountered  in  re- 
deeming her  from  the  Turk,  etc.,  with  which  Moll  would 


MOLL    AN    EXCELLENT    CHEAT.  139 

beguile  away  any  tedious  half-hour,  for  the  mere  amuse- 
ment of  creating  Mrs.  Butterby's  wonder  and  surprise, 
—  as  one  will  tell  stories  of  fairies  to  children, —  this  good 
woman  repeated  with  many  additions  of  her  own  concern- 
ing ourselves,  which,  to  reflect  credit  on  herself,  were  all 
to  our  advantage.  This  was  the  more  fitting,  because  the 
news  spreading  that  the  lost  heiress  had  returned  to  Hurst 
Court  excited  curiosity  far  and  wide,  and  it  was  not  long 
before  families  in  the  surrounding  seats,  who  had  known 
Sir  R.  Godwin  in  bygone  times,  called  to  see  his  daughter. 
And  here  Moll's  wit  was  taxed  to  the  utmost,  for  those 
who  had  known  Judith  Godwin  as  an  infant  expected  that 
she  should  remember  some  incident  stored  in  their  recol- 
lection; but  she  was  ever  equal  to  the  occasion,  feign- 
ing a  pretty  doubting  innocence  at  first,  then  suddenly 
asking  this  lady  if  she  had  not  worn  a  cherry  dress  with  a 
beautiful  stomacher  at  the  time,  or  that  gentleman  if  he 
had  not  given  her  a  gold  piece  for  a  token,  and  it  generally 
happened  these  shrewd  shafts  hit  their  mark:  the  lady, 
though  she  might  have  forgotten  her  gown,  remembering 
she  had  a  very  becoming  stomacher;  the  gentleman  be- 
lieving that  he  did  give  her  a  lucky  penny,  and  so  forth, 
from  very  vanity.  Then  Moll's  lofty  carriage  and  her 
beauty  would  remind  them  of  their  dear  lost  friend,  Mrs. 
Godwin,  in  the  heyday  of  her  youth,  and  all  agreed  in 
admiring  her  beyond  anything.  And  though  Moll,  from 
her  lack  of  knowledge,  made  many  slips,  and  would  now 
and  then  say  things  uncustomary  to  women  of  breeding, 
yet  these  were  easily  attributed  to  her  living  so  long  in  a 
barbarous  country,  and  were  as  readily  glanced  over.  In- 
deed, nothing  could  surpass  Moll's  artificial  conduct  on 


I4O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

these  occasions.  She  would  lard  her  conversation  with 
those  scraps  of  Italian  she  learnt  from  me,  and  sometimes, 
affecting  to  have  forgot  her  own  tongue,  she  would  stumble 
at  a  word,  and  turning  to  Don  Sanchez,  ask  him  the  Eng- 
lish of  some  Moorish  phrase.  Then  one  day,  there  being 
quite  a  dozen  visitors  in  her  state  room,  she  brings  down 
her  Moorish  dress  and  those  baubles  given  her  by  friends 
at  Elche,  to  show  the  ladies,  much  to  the  general  astonish- 
ment and  wonder;  then,  being  prayed  to  dress  herself  in 
these  clothes,  she  with  some  hesitation  of  modesty  consents, 
and  after  a  short  absence  from  the  room  returns  in  this 
costume,  looking  lovelier  than  ever  I  had  before  seen, 
with  the  rings  about  her  shapely  bare  arms  and  on  her 
ankles,  and  thus  arrayed  she  brings  me  a  guitar,  and  to 
my  strumming  sings  a  Moorish  song,  swaying  her  arms 
above  her  head  and  turning  gracefully  in  their  fashion,  so 
that  all  were  in  an  ecstasy  with  this  strange  performance. 
And  the  talk  spreading,  the  number  of  visitors  grew  apace, 
—  as  bees  will  flock  to  honey,  —  and  yielding  to  their 
urgent  entreaties,  she  would  often  repeat  this  piece  of 
business,  and  always  with  a  most  winning  grace,  that 
charmed  every  one.  But  she  was  most  a  favourite  of  gen- 
tlemen and  elderly  ladies;  for  the  younger  ones  she  did 
certainly  put  their  noses  out  of  joint,  since  none  could  at 
all  compare  with  her  in  beauty  nor  in  manner,  either,  for 
she  had  neither  the  awkward  shyness  of  some  nor  the  bold- 
ness of  others,  but  contrived  ever  to  steer  neatly  betwixt 
the  two  extremes  by  her  natural  self-possession  and  fear- 
lessness. 

Of  all  her  new  friends,  the  most  eager  in  courting  her 
were  Sir  Harry  Upton  and  his  lady  (living  in  the  Grays), 


DISCOURSE    OF    TAKING    MOLL    TO    COURT.         14! 

and  they,  being  about  to  go  to  London  for  the  winter,  did 
press  Moll  very  hard  to  go  with  them,  that  she  might  be 
presented  to  the  king;  and,  truth  to  tell,  they  would  not 
have  had  to  ask  her  twice  had  she  been  governed  only 
by  her  own  inclination.  For  she  was  mad  to  go,  —  that 
audacious  spirit  of  adventure  still  working  very  strong  in 
her,  —  and  she,  like  a  winning  gamester,  must  for  ever  be 
playing  for  higher  and  higher  stakes.  But  we,  who  had 
heard  enough  of  his  excellent  but  lawless  Majesty's  court 
to  fear  the  fate  of  any  impulsive,  beauteous  young  woman 
that  came  within  his  sway,  were  quite  against  this.  Even 
Don  Sanchez,  who  was  no  innocent,  did  persuade  her  from 
it  with  good  strong  argument,  —  showing  that,  despite  his 
worldliness,  he  did  really  love  her  as  much  as  'twas  in  his 
withered  heart  to  love  any  one.  As  for  Dawson,  he  declared 
he  would  sooner  see  his  Moll  in  her  winding-sheet  than 
in  the  king's  company,  adding  that  'twould  be  time  enough 
for  her  to  think  of  going  to  court  when  she  had  a  husband 
to  keep  her  out  of  mischief.  And  so  she  refused  this  offer 
(but  with  secret  tears,  I  believe).  "But,"  says  she  to  her 
father,  "  if  I'm  not  to  have  my  own  way  till  I'm  married, 
I  shall  get  me  a  husband  as  soon  as  I  can." 

And  it  seemed  that  she  would  not  have  to  look  far  nor 
wait  long  for  one  neither.  Before  a  month  was  passed,  at 
least  half  a  dozen  young  sparks  were  courting  her,  they 
being  attracted,  not  only  by  her  wit  and  beauty,  but  by  the 
report  of  her  wealth,  it  being  known  to  all  how  Simon 
had  enriched  the  estate.  And  'twas  this  abundance  of 
suitors  which  prevented  Moll  from  choosing  any  one  in 
particular,  else  had  there  been  but  one,  I  believe  the 
business  would  have  been  settled  very  quickly.  For  now 


142  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

she  was  in  the  very  flush  of  life,  and  the  blood  that  flowed 
in  her  veins  was  of  no  lukewarm  kind. 

But  here  (that  I  may  keep  all  my  strings  in  harmony) 
I  must  quit  Moll  for  a  space  to  tell  of  her  father.  That 
first  hint  of  the  Don's  bringing  him  to  his  senses  somewhat 
(like  a  dash  of  cold  water),  and  the  exuberance  of  his 
joy  subsiding,  he  quickly  became  more  circumspect  in  his 
behaviour,  and  fell  into  the  part  he  had  to  play.  And  the 
hard,  trying,  sorrowful  part  that  was,  neither  he  nor  I  had 
foreseen.  For  now  was  he  compelled  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life,  at  any  length,  to  live  apart  from  his  daughter, 
to  refrain  from  embracing  her  when  they  met  in  the  morn- 
ing, to  speak  to  her  in  a  rough,  churlish  sort  when  his  heart, 
maybe,  was  overflowing  with  love,  and  to  reconcile  him- 
self to  a  cool,  indifferent  behaviour  on  her  side,  when  his 
very  soul  was  yearning  for  gentle,  tender  warmth.  And 
these  natural  cravings  of  affection  were  rather  strengthened 
than  stilled  by  repression,  as  one's  hunger  by  starving.  To 
add  to  this,  he  now  saw  his  Moll  more  bewitching  than 
ever  she  was  before,  the  evidence  of  her  wit  and  under- 
standing stimulating  that  admiration  which  he  dared  not 
express.  He  beheld  her  loved  and  courted  openly  by  all, 
whilst  he  who  had  deeper  feeling  for  her  than  any,  and 
more  right  to  caress  her,  must  at  each  moment  stifle  his 
desires  and  lay  fetters  on  his  inclinations,  which  constraint, 
like  chains  binding  down  a  stout,  thriving  oak,  did  eat  and 
corrode  into  his  being,  so  that  he  did  live  most  of  these 
days  in  a  veritable  torment.  Yet,  for  Moll's  sake,  was  he 
very  stubborn  in  his  resolution;  and,  when  he  could  no 
longer  endure  to  stand  indifferently  by  while  others  were 
enjoying  her  sprightly  conversation,  he  would  go  up  to 


DAWSON    GREATLY    TORTURED.  143 

his  chamber  and  pace  to  and  fro,  like  some  she-lion  parted 
from  her  cub. 

These  sufferings  were  not  unperceived  by  Moll,  who  also 
had  strong  feeling  to  repress,  and  therefore  could  compre- 
hend her  father's  torture,  and  she  would  often  seize  an 
opportunity,  nay,  run  great  risk  of  discovery,  to  hie  her 
secretly  to  his  room,  there  to  throw  herself  in  his  arms  and 
strain  him  to  her  heart,  covering  his  great  face  with  tender 
kisses,  and  whispering  words  of  hope  and  good  cheer  (with 
the  tears  on  her  cheek) .  And  one  day  when  Jack  seemed 
more  than  usual  downhearted,  she  offered  him  to  give  up 
everything  and  return  to  her  old  ways,  if  he  would.  But 
this  spurring  his  courage,  he  declared  he  would  live  in  hell 
rather  than  she  should  fall  from  her  high  estate,  and  become 
a  mere  vagabond  wench  again,  adding  that  'twas  but  the  first 
effort  gave  him  so  much  pain,  that  with  practice  'twould  all 
be  as  nothing ;  that  such  sweet  kisses  as  hers  once  a  week 
did  amply  compensate  him  for  his  fast,  etc.  Then  her  tears 
being  brushed  away,  she  would  quit  him  with  noiseless  step 
and  all  precautions,  and  maybe  five  minutes  afterwards, 
whilst  Jack  was  sitting  pensive  at  his  window  pondering 
her  sweetness  and  love,  he  would  hear  her  laughing  lightly 
below,  as  if  he  were  already  forgotten. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

How  Dawson  for  MoWs  good  parts  company  with  us,  and  goes  away 
a  lonely  man, 

ON  the  eve  of  Michaelmas  day  old  Simon  returned  from 
London,  whither  he  had  gone  two  days  before,  to  raise  the 
money  he  had  promised ;  and  calling  upon  him  in  the 
afternoon  I  found  him  seated  at  his  table,  with  a  most  woe- 
begone look  in  his  face,  and  his  eyes  streaming  more 
copiously  than  usual.  And  with  most  abject  humility  he 
told  me  that  doing  the  utmost  that  lay  in  his  power,  he  had 
not  been  able  to  persuade  his  goldsmith  to  lend  more  than 
ten  thousand  pounds  on  the  title  deeds.  Nor  had  he  got 
that,  he  declared,  but  that  the  goldsmith  knew  him  for  an 
honest  and  trustworthy  man  whom  he  would  credit  beyond 
any  other  in  the  world ;  for  the  seal  not  yet  being  given  to 
Judith  Godwin's  succession,  there  was  always  peril  of  dis- 
pute and  lawsuits  which  might  make  these  papers  of  no 
value  at  all  (the  king's  ministers  vying  one  with  another  to 
please  their  master  by  bringing  money  rightly  or  wrongly 
into  the  treasury),  and  this,  indeed,  may  have  been  true 
enough. 

"  But,"  says  he,  "  all  will  go  well  if  thee  wilt  have  but  a 
little  patience  for  a  while.  To-morrow  my  rents  will  come 
in,  and  I  will  exact  to  the  last  farthing;  and  there  is  a 
parcel  of  land  I  may  sell,  mayhap,  for  instant  payment, 
though  'twill  be  at  a  fearsome  loss"  (mopping  his  eyes),  "yet 

144 


LAY  HANDS  ON  TEN  THOUSAND  POUNDS.    145 

I  will  do  it  rather  than  put  thee  to  greater  incommodity ; 
and  so,  ere  the  end  of  the  week,  thee  mayst  safely  count 
on  having  yet  another  three  thousand,  which  together  makes 
nigh  upon  half  the  sum  promised.  And  this,  dear  good 
friend,"  adds  he,  slyly,  "  thee  mayst  well  take  on  account 
of  thine  own  share,  —  and  none  dispute  thy  right,  for  'tis 
thy  money  hath  done  all.  And  from  what  I  see  of  him, 
smoking  of  pipes  in  the  public  way  and  drinking  with  any 
low  fellows  in  alehouses,  this  Captain  Evans  is  but  a  paltry, 
mean  man  who  may  be  easily  put  off  with  a  pound  or  two 
to  squander  in  his  pleasures  ;  and  as  for  the  Spanish  grandee, 
he  do  seem  so  content  to  be  with  our  mistress  that  I  doubt 
he  needs  no  pretext  for  quitting  her,  added  to  which,  being 
of  a  haughty,  proud  nature,  he  should  scorn  to  claim  his 
own,  to  the  prejudice  of  a  merchant  who  hath  nought  but 
his  capital  to  live  upon.  And  I  do  implore  thee,  good 
friend,  to  lay  this  matter  before  my  mistress  in  such  a  way 
that  she  may  not  be  wroth  with  me." 

I  told  him  I  would  do  all  he  could  expect  of  me  in 
reason,  but  bade  him  understand  that  his  cb/ance  of  for- 
giveness for  having  broke  his  first  engagement  depended 
greatly  upon  his  exactitude  in  keeping  the  second,  and  that 
he  might  count  on  little  mercy  from  us  if  the  other  three 
thousand  were  not  forthcoming  as  he  promised  So  I  took 
the  money  and  gave  him  a  quittance  for  it,  signing  it  with 
my  false  name,  James  Hopkins,  but,  reflecting  on  this  when 
I  left  him,  I  wished  I  had  not.  For  I  clearly  perceived 
that  by  this  forgery  I  laid  myself  open  to  very  grievous  con- 
sequences ;  moreover,  taking  of  this  solid  money,  disguise  it 
how  I  would,  appeared  to  me  nothing  short  of  downright 
robbery,  be  it  whose  it  might.  In  short,  being  now  plunged 


146  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

up  to  my  neck  in  this  business,  I  felt  like  a  foolish  lad  who 
hath  waded  beyond  his  depth  in  a  rapid  current,  hoping  I 
might  somehow  get  out  of  it  safely,  but  with  very  little 
expectation.  However,  the  sight  of  all  this  gold  told  up  in 
scores  upon  the  table  in  our  closed  room  served  to  quiet 
these  qualms  considerably.  Nevertheless,  I  was  not  dis- 
pleased to  remember  our  bargain  with  Don  Sanchez,  feeling 
that  I  should  breathe  more  freely  when  he  had  taken  this 
store  of  gold  out  of  my  hands,  etc.  Thus  did  my  mind 
waver  this  way  and  that,  like  a  weather-cock  to  the  blowing 
of  contrary  winds. 

'Twas  this  day  that  Moll  (as  I  have  said)  dressed  herself 
in  her  Moorish  clothes  for  the  entertainment  of  her  new 
friends,  and  Dawson,  hearing  her  voice,  yet  not  daring  to  go 
into  the  state  room  where  she  was,  must  needs  linger  on  the 
stairs  listening  to  her  song,  and  craning  his  neck  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  her  through  the  open  door  below.  Here  he 
stands  in  a  sort  of  ravishment,  sucking  in  her  sweet  voice, 
and  the  sounds  of  delight  with  which  her  guests  paid  tribute 
to  her  performance,  feeding  his  passion  which,  like  some 
fire,  grew  more  fierce  by  feeding,  till  he  was  well-nigh  beside 
himself.  Presently,  out  comes  Moll  from  her  state  room, 
all  glowing  with  exercise,  flushed  with  pleasure,  a  rich  colour 
in  her  cheek,  and  wild  fire  in  her  eyes,  looking  more  witch- 
ing than  any  siren.  Swiftly  she  crosses  the  hall,  and  runs 
up  the  stairs  to  gain  her  chamber  and  reclothe  herself,  but 
half  way  up  Dawson  stops  her,  and  clasping  her  about, 
cries  hoarsely  in  a  transport : 

"  Thou  art  my  own  Moll  —  my  own  sweet  Moll ! " 
adding,  as  she  would  break  from  him  to  go  her  way,  "  Nay, 
chick.  You  shall  not  go  till  you  have  bussed  your  old  dad." 


DAWSON  ;    HIS    INDISCRETION.  147 

Then  she,  hesitating  a  moment  betwixt  prudence  and  her 
warmer  feelings,  suddenly  yields  to  the  impulse  of  her 
heart  (her  head  also  being  turned  maybe  with  success  and 
delight),  and  flinging  her  arms  about  his  neck  gives  him  a 
hearty  kiss,  and  then  bursts  away  with  a  light  laugh. 

Jack  watches  her  out  of  sight,  and  then,  when  the 
moment  of  escape  is  past,  he  looks  below  to  see  if  there  be 
any  danger,  and  there  he  spies  Don  Sanchez,  regarding  him 
from  the  open  door,  where  he  stands,  as  if  to  guard  it. 
Without  a  sign  the  Don  turns  on  his  heel  and  goes  back 
into  the  room,  while  Dawson,  with  a  miserable  hangdog 
look,  comes  to  me  in  my  chamber,  where  I  am  counting  the 
gold,  and  confesses  his  folly  with  a  shamed  face,  cursing 
himself  freely  for  his  indiscretion,  which  at  this  rate  must 
ruin  all  ere  long. 

This  was  no  great  surprise  to  me,  for  I  myself  had  seen 
him  many  a  time  clip  his  dear  daughter's  hand,  when  he 
thought  no  one  was  by,  and,  more  than  once,  the  name  of 
Moll  had  slipped  out  when  he  should  have  spoken  of  Mis- 
tress Judith. 

These  accidents  threw  us  both  into  a  very  grave  humour, 
and  especially  I  was  tormented  with  the  reflection  that  a 
forgery  could  be  proved  against  me,  if  things  came  to  the 
worst.  The  danger  thereof  was  not  slight ;  for  though  all 
in  the  house  loved  Moll  dearly  and  would  willingly  do  her 
no  hurt,  yet  the  servants,  should  they  notice  how  Mistress 
Judith  stood  with  Captain  Evans,  must  needs  be  prating, 
and  there  a  mischief  would  begin,  to  end  only  the  Lord 
knows  where  !  Thereupon,  I  thought  it  as  well  to  preach 
Jack  a  sermon,  and  caution  him  to  greater  prudence ;  and 
this  he  took  in  amazing  good  part  —  not  bidding  me  tend 


148  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

my  own  business  as  he  might  at  another  time,  but  assenting 
very  submissively  to  all  my  hints  of  disaster,  and  thanking 
me  in  the  end  for  speaking  my  mind  so  freely.  Then,  see- 
ing him  so  sadly  downcast,  I  (to  give  a  sweetmeat  after  a 
bitter  draught)  bade  him  take  the  matter  not  too  much  to 
heart,  promising  that,  with  a  little  practice,  he  would  soon 
acquire  a  habit  of  self-restraint,  and  so  all  would  go  well. 
But  he  made  no  response,  save  by  shaking  of  his  head 
sorrowfully,  and  would  not  be  comforted. 

When  all  were  abed  that  night,  we  three  men  met  in  my 
chamber,  where  I  had  set  the  bags  of  money  on  the  table, 
together  with  a  dish  of  tobacco  and  a  bottle  of  wine  for  our 
refreshment,  and  then  the  Don,  having  lit  him  a  cigarro,  and 
we  our  pipes,  with  full  glasses  beside  us,  I  proposed  we 
should  talk  of  our  affairs,  to  which  Don  Sanchez  consented 
with  a  solemn  inclination  of  his  head.  But  ere  I  began,  I 
observed  with  a  pang  of  foreboding,  that  Jack,  who  usually 
had  emptied  his  glass  ere  others  had  sipped  theirs,  did  now 
leave  his  untouched,  and  after  the  first  pull  or  two  at  his 
pipe,  he  cast  it  on  the  hearth  as  though  it  were  foul  to  his 
taste.  Taking  no  open  notice  of  this,  I  showed  Don  San- 
chez the  gold,  and  related  all  that  had  passed  between 
Simon  and  me. 

"  Happily,  Sefior,"  says  I,  in  conclusion,  "  here  is  just  the 
sum  you  generously  offered  to  accept  for  your  share,  and 
we  give  it  you  with  a  free  heart,  Evans  and  I  being  willing 
to  wait  for  what  may  be  forthcoming." 

"  Is  it  your  wish  both,  that  I  take  this?"  says  he,  laying 
his  hand  on  the  money  and  looking  from  me  to  Dawson. 

"  Aye,"  says  he,  "  'tis  but  a  tithe  of  what  is  left  to  us,  and 
not  an  hundredth  part  of  what  we  owe  to  you." 


DAWSON    RESOLVES    TO    LEAVE    US.  149 

"  Very  good,"  says  the  Don.  "  I  will  carry  it  to  London 
to-morrow." 

"  But  surely,  Sefior,"  says  I,  "  you  will  not  quit  us  so  soon." 

Don  Sanchez  rolls  his  cigarro  in  his  lips,  looking  me  straight 
in  the  face  and  somewhat  sternly,  and  asks  me  quietly  if  I 
have  ever  found  him  lacking  in  loyalty  and  friendship. 

"  In  truth,  never,  Sefior." 

"  Then  why  should  you  imagine  I  mean  to  quit  you  now 
when  you  have  more  need  of  a  friend  in  this  house  "  (with  a 
sideward  glance  as  towards  Moll's  chamber)  "  than  ever  you 
before  had?  "  Then,  turning  towards  Jack,  he  says,  "  What 
are  you  going  to  do,  Captain  Evans?  " 

Dawson  pauses,  as  if  to  snatch  one  last  moment  for  con- 
sideration, and  then,  nodding  at  me,  "  You'll  not  leave  my 
Moll,  Kit?"  says  he,  with  no  attempt  to  disguise  names. 

"  Why  should  I  leave  her ;  are  we  not  as  brothers,  you  and 
I?" 

"Aye,  I'd  trust  you  with  my  life,"  answers  he,  "  and  more 
than  that,  with  my  —  Moll !  If  you  were  her  uncle,  she 
couldn't  love  you  more,  Kit.  And  you  will  stand  by  her, 
too,  Senor?" 

The  Don  bowed  his  head. 

"Then  when  you  leave,  to-morrow,  I'll  go  with  you  to 
London,"  says  Jack. 

"  I  shall  return  the  next  day,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  with 
significance. 

"  And  I  shall  not,  God  help  me  !  "  says  Jack,  bitterly. 

"  Give  me  your  hand,"  says  the  Don  ;  but  I  could  speak 
never  a  word,  and  sat  staring  at  Jack,  in  a  maze. 

"  We'll  say  nought  of  this  to  her,"  continues  Jack ;  "  there 
must  be  no  farewells,  I  could  never  endure  that.  But  it 


ISO  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

shall  seem  that  I  have  gone  with  you  for  company,  and 
have  fallen  in  with  old  comrades  who  would  keep  me  for 
a  carousing." 

"But  with  out  friends  —  alone — what  shall  you  do  there 
in  London?"  says  I,  heart-stricken  at  the  thought  of  his 
desolation.  The  Don  answers  for  Jack. 

"Make  the  best  of  his  lot  with  a  stout  heart,  like  any 
other  brave  man,"  says  he.  "  There  are  natural  hardships 
which  every  man  must  bear  in  his  time,  and  this  is  one 
of  them."  Then  lowering  his  voice,  he  adds,  "Unless  you 
would  have  her  die  an  old  maid,  she  and  her  father  must 
part  sooner  or  later." 

"  Why,  that's  true,  and  yet,  Master,"  says  Jack,  "  I  would 
have  you  know  that  I'm  not  so  brave  but  I  would  see  her 
now  and  then." 

"  That  may  be  ordered  readily  enough,"  says  the  Don. 

"  Then  do  you  tell  her,  Senor,  I  have  but  gone  a-junketing, 
and  she  may  look  to  see  me  again  when  my  frolic's  over." 

The  Don  closed  his  eyes  as  one  in  dubitation,  and  then 
says,  lifting  his  eyebrows  :  "  She  is  a  clever  woman  —  shrewd 
beyond  any  I  have  ever  known ;  then  why  treat  her  as  you 
would  a  foolish  child?  You  must  let  me  tell  her  the  truth 
when  I  come  back,  and  I  warrant  it  will  not  break  her  heart, 
much  as  she  loves  you." 

"  As  you  will,"  says  t'other.  "  'Twill  be  all  as  one  to  me," 
with  a  sigh. 

"This  falls  out  well  in  all  ways,"  continues  the  Don, 
turning  to  me.  "  You  will  tell  Simon,  whose  suspicion  we 
have  most  to  fear,  that  we  have  handed  over  four  thousand 
of  those  pieces  to  Captain  Evans  as  being  most  in  need,  we 
ourselves  choosing  to  stay  here  till  the  rest  of  our  claim  is 


DAWSON    GOES    HIS    WAY.  15! 

paid.     That  will  account  for  Evans  going  away,  and  give  us 
a  pretext  for  staying  here." 

"  I'll  visit  him  myself,  if  you  will,"  says  Jack,  "  and  wring 
his  hand  to  show  my  gratitude.  I  warrant  I'll  make  him 
wince,  such  a  grip  will  I  give  him.  And  I'll  talk  of  nothing 
else  but  seas  and  winds,  and  the  manner  of  ship  I'll  have 
for  his  money." 

The  following  morning  before  Moll  was  stirring,  Don 
Sanchez  and  Dawson  set  forth  on  their  journey,  and  I  going 
with  them  beyond  the  park  gates  to  the  bend  of  the  road, 
we  took  leave  of  each  other  with  a  great  show  of  cheerful- 
ness on  both  sides.  But  Lord  !  my  heart  lay  in  my  breast 
like  any  lump  of  lead,  and  when  Jack  turned  his  back  on 
me,  the  tears  sprang  up  in  my  eyes  as  though  indeed  this 
was  my  brother  and  I  was  never  to  see  him  more.  And 
long  after  he  was  out  of  sight  I  sat  on  the  bank  by  the 
roadside,  sick  with  pain  to  think  of  his  sorrow  in  going 
forth  like  this,  without  one  last  loving  word  of  parting  from 
his  dear  Moll,  to  find  no  home  in  London,  no  friend  to 
cheer  him,  and  he  the  most  companionable  man  in  the 
world. 


CHAPTER  XVTII. 

Of  our  getting  a  painter  into  the  Court,  with  whom  our  Moll  falls 
straightivay  in  love. 

BEING  somewhat  of  a  coward,  I  essayed  to  put  Moll  off 
with  a  story  of  her  father  having  gone  a- frolicking  with 
Don  Sanchez,  leaving  it  to  the  Don  to  break  the  truth  to 
her  on  his  return.  And  a  sorry,  bungling  business  I  made 
of  it,  to  be  sure.  For,  looking  me  straight  in  the  eyes, 
whenever  I  dared  lift  them,  she  did  seem  to  perceive  that 
I  was  lying,  from  the  very  first,  which  so  disconcerted  me, 
though  she  interrupted  me  by  never  a  word,  that  I  could 
scarce  stammer  to  the  end  of  my  tale.  Then,  without  ask- 
ing a  single  question,  or  once  breaking  her  painful  silence, 
she  laid  her  face  in  her  hands,  her  shoulders  shook,  and  the 
tears  ran  out  between  her  fingers,  and  fell  upon  her  lap. 

"  I  know,  I  know,"  says  she,  putting  me  away,  when  I 
attempted  to  speak.  "  He  has  gone  away  for  my  sake,  and 
will  come  back  no  more ;  and  'tis  all  my  fault,  that  I  could 
not  play  my  part  better." 

Then,  what  words  of  comfort  I  could  find,  I  offered  her ; 
but  she  would  not  be  consoled,  and  shut  herself  up  in  her 
room  all  that  morning.  Nevertheless,  she  ate  more  heartily 
than  I  at  dinner,  and  fresh  visitors  coming  in  the  afternoon, 
she  entertained  them  as  though  no  grief  lay  at  her  heart. 
Indeed,  she  recovered  of  this  cruel  blow  much  easier  than 
I  looked  for ;  and  but  that  she  would  at  times  sit  pensive, 
with  melancholy,  wistful  eyes,  and  rise  from  her  seat  with 

152 


MOLL    QUICKLY    RECONCILED.  153 

a  troubled  sigh,  one  would  have  said,  at  the  end  of  the  week, 
that  she  had  ceased  to  feel  for  her  father.  But  this  was  not 
so  (albeit  wounds  heal  quickly  in  the  young  and  healthful), 
for  I  believe  that  they  who  weep  the  least  do  ache  the  most. 

Then,  for  her  further  excuse  (if  it  be  needed),  Don 
Sanchez  brought  back  good  tidings  of  her  father,  —  how  he 
was  neatly  lodged  near  the  Cherry  garden,  where  he  could 
hear  the  birds  all  day  and  the  fiddles  all  night,  with  abun- 
dance of  good  entertainment,  etc.  To  confirm  which,  she 
got  a  letter  from  him,  three^  days  later,  very  loving  and 
cheerful,  telling  how,  his  landlord  being  a  carpenter,  he  did 
amuse  himself  mightily  at  his  old  trade  in  the  workshop, 
and  was  all  agog  for  learning  to  turn  wood  in  a  lathe, 
promising  that  he  would  make  her  a  set  of  egg-cups  against 
her  birthday,  please  God.  Added  to  this,  the  number  of 
her  friends  multiplying  apace,  every  day  brought  some  new 
occupation  to  her  thoughts ;  also,  having  now  those  three 
thousand  pounds  old  Simon  had  promised  us,  Moll  set 
herself  to  spending  of  them  as  quickly  as  possible,  by  fur- 
nishing herself  with  all  sorts  of  rich  gowns  and  appoint- 
ments, which  is  as  pretty  a  diversion  of  melancholy  from  a 
young  woman's  thoughts  as  any.  And  so  I  think  I  need 
dwell  no  longer  on  this  head. 

About  the  beginning  of  October,  Simon  comes,  cap  in 
hand,  and  very  humble,  to  the  Court  to  crave  Moll's  con- 
sent to  his  setting  some  men  with  guns  in  her  park  at  night, 
to  lie  in  ambush  for  poachers,  telling  how  they  had  shot  one 
man  in  the  act  last  spring,  and  had  hanged  another  the  year 
before  for  stealing  of  a  sheep ;  adding  that  a  stranger  had 
been  seen  loitering  in  the  neighbourhood,  who,  he  doubted 
not,  was  of  their  thieving  crew. 


154  A  SET  °F  ROGUES. 

"What  makes  you  think  that?"  asks  Moll. 

"He  has  been  seen  lingering  about  here  these  three 
days,"  answers  Simon.  "Yet  to  my  knowledge  he  hath  not 
slept  at  either  of  the  village  inns.  Moreover,  he  hath  the 
look  of  a  desperate,  starving  rascal,  ripe  for  such  work." 

"  I  will  have  no  man  killed  for  his  misfortunes." 

"  Gentle  mistress,  suffer  me  to  point  out  that  if  thee  lets 
one  man  steal  with  impunity,  others,  now  innocent,  are 
thereby  encouraged  to  sin,  and  thus  thy  mercy  tends  to 
greater  cruelty." 

"  No  man  shall  be  killed  on  my  land,  —  there  is  my 
answer,"  says  Moll,  with  passion.  "  If  you  take  this  poor, 
starved  creature,  it  shall  be  without  doing  him  bodily  hurt. 
You  shall  answer  for  it  else." 

"  Not  a  bone  shall  be  broken,  mistress.  Tis  enough  if 
we  carry  him  before  Justice  Martin,  a  godly,  upright  man, 
and  a  scourge  to  evil-doers." 

"  Nay,  you  shall  not  do  that,  neither,  till  I  have  heard  his 
case,"  says  Moll.  "  'Tis  for  me  to  decide  whether  he  has 
injured  me  or  not,  and  I'll  suffer  none  to  take  my  place." 

Promising  obedience,  Simon  withdrew  before  any  further 
restrictions  might  be  put  upon  him ;  but  Moll's  mind  was 
much  disturbed  all  day  by  fear  of  mischief  being  done  de- 
spite her  commands,  and  at  night  she  would  have  me  take 
her  round  the  park  to  see  all  well.  Maybe,  she  thought  that 
her  own  father,  stealing  hither  to  see  her  privily,  might  foil 
a  victim  to  Simon's  ambushed  hirelings.  But  we  found  no 
one,  though  Simon  had  certainly  hidden  these  fellows  some- 
where in  the  thickets. 

Whilst  we  were  at  table  next  morning,  we  heard  a  great 
commotion  in  the  hall;  and  Mrs.  Butterby  coming  in  a 


MOLL    SITS    IN    JUSTICE.  155 

mighty  pucker,  told  how  the  robber  had  been  taken  in  the 
park,  and  how  Simon  had  brought  him  to  the  house  in 
obedience  to  her  lady's  command. 

"  But  do,  pray,  have  a  care  of  yourself,  my  dear  lady,"  says 
she ;  "  for  this  hardy  villain  hath  struck  Mr.  Simon  in  the 
face  and  made  most  desperate  resistance ;  and  Heaven  pro- 
tect us  from  such  wicked  outlaws  as  have  the  villany  to 
show  themselves  in  broad  daylight !  " 

Moll,  smiling,  said  she  would  rather  face  a  lion  in  the 
day  than  a  mouse  by  night,  and  so  bade  the  captive  to  be 
brought  before  her. 

Then  in  comes  Simon,  with  a  stout  band  over  one  eye, 
followed  by  two  sturdy  fellows  holding  their  prisoner  betwixt 
them.  And  this  was  a  very  passionate  man,  as  was  evidenced 
by  the  looks  of  fury  he  cast  from  side  to  side  upon  his  cap- 
tors as  they  dragged  him  this  way  and  that  to  make  a  show 
of  their  power,  but  not  ill-looking.  In  his  struggles  he  had 
lost  his  hat,  and  his  threadbare  coat  and  shirt  were  torn 
open,  laying  bare  his  neck  and  showing  a  very  fair  white 
skin  and  a  good  beard  of  light  curling  hair.  There  was 
nought  mean  or  vile  in  his  face,  but  rather  it  seemed  to  me 
a  noble  countenance,  though  woefully  wasted,  so  that  at  a 
glance  one  might  perceive  he  was  no  born  rascal,  but  likely 
enough  some  ruined  man  of  better  sort  driven  to  unlawful 
ways  by  his  distress.  He  was  of  a  fair  height,  but  gaunt 
beyond  everything,  and  so  feeble  that  after  one  effort  to 
free  his  arms  his  chin  sank  upon  his  breast  as  if  his  forces 
were  all  spent. 

Seeing  this,  Moll  bade  the  fellows  unbind  him,  telling 
them  sharply  they  might  see  there  was  no  need  of  such 
rigour. 


156  A    SET   OF    ROGUES. 

Being  freed,  our  prisoner  lifts  his  head  and  makes  a  slight 
reverence  to  Moll,  but  with  little  gratitude  in  his  look,  and 
places  himself  at  the  end  of  the  table  facing  us,  who  are  at 
the  other  end,  Moll  sitting  betwixt  Don  Sanchez  and  me. 
And  there,  setting  his  hands  for  support  upon  the  board,  he 
holds  his  head  up  pretty  proudly,  waiting  for  what  might 
come. 

"  Who  are  you?  "  asks  Moll,  in  a  tone  of  authority. 

He  waits  a  moment,  as  if  deliberating  with  himself  whether 
to  speak  fairly  or  not,  then,  being  still  sore  with  his  ill-treat- 
ment, and  angered  to  be  questioned  thus  by  a  mere  girl 
(he,  as  I  take  it,  being  a  man  of  thirty  or  thereabouts),  he 
answers : 

"  I  do  not  choose  to  tell.  Who  I  am,  what  I  am,  con- 
cerns you  no  more  than  who  and  what  you  are  concerns  me, 
and  less  since  I  may  justly  demand  by  what  right  these  fel- 
lows, whom  I  take  to  be  your  servants,  have  thus  laid  hands 
on  me." 

"  How  do  you  answer  this?  "  asks  Moll,  turning  to  Simon. 

Then  Simon  told  very  precisely,  as  if  he  were  before  a 
magistrate,  how  this  man,  having  been  seen  lingering  about 
the  Court  several  days,  and  being  without  home  or  occupa- 
tion, had  been  suspected  of  felonious  purposes ;  how,  there- 
fore, he  had  set  a  watch  to  lay  wait  for  him  ;  how  that  morn- 
ing they  had  entrapped  him  standing  within  a  covert  of  the 
park  regarding  the  house ;  how  he  had  refused  to  give  his 
name  or  any  excuse  for  his  being  there,  and  how  he  had 
made  most  desperate  attempt  to  escape  when  they  had  lain 
hands  on  him. 

"  Is  this  true?  "  asks  Moll  of  the  prisoner. 

"Yes,"  says  he. 


MOLLS    GENTLE    SPEECH.  1 57 

Moll  regards  him  with  incredulous  eyes  a  moment,  then, 
turning  to  Simon,  "  What  arms  had  he  for  this  purpose  that 
you  speak  of  ?  "  says  she. 

"None,  mistress;  but  'twould  be  a  dread  villain  verily 
who  would  carry  the  engines  of  his  trade  abroad  in  daylight 
to  betray  him."  And  then  he  told  how  'tis  the  habit  of 
these  poachers  to  reconnoitre  their  ground  by  day,  and  keep 
their  nets,  guns,  etc.,  concealed  in  some  thicket  or  hollow 
tree  convenient  for  their  purpose.  "  But,"  adds  he,  "  we 
may  clearly  prove  a  trespass  against  him,  which  is  a  pun- 
ishable offence,  and  this  assault  upon  me,  whereof  I  have 
evidence,  shall  also  count  for  something  with  Justice  Martin, 
and  so  the  wicked  shall  yet  come  by  their  deserts."  And 
with  that  he  gives  his  fellows  a  wink  with  his  one  eye  to 
carry  off  their  quarry. 

"Stay,"  says  Moll,  "I  would  be  further  convinced  — " 

"  If  he  be  an  honest  man,  let  him  show  thee  his  hand," 
says  Simon. 

The  man  innocently  enough  stretches  out  his  palm  towards 
us,  not  perceiving  Simon's  end. 

"There  !  "  cries  Simon.  "What  said  I?  Is  that  a  hand 
that  ever  did  a  day's  honest  work?  " 

"  'Tis  no  worse  than  mine,"  says  Moll,  regarding  the 
hand  which  in  truth  was  exceeding  smooth  and  well  formed. 
"  Come,"  adds  she,  still  more  kindly,  "  you  see  I  am  no 
harsh  judge.  I  would  not  deny  a  fellow-creature  the 
pleasure  that  is  not  grudged  the  coney  that  runs  across  my 
lawn.  Tell  me  you  were  there  but  to  gratify  a  passing 
caprice,  and  I'll  forgive  you  as  freely  as  I'll  believe  you." 

This  gentle  appeal  seemed  to  move  the  young  man 
greatly,  and  he  made  as  if  he  would  do  more  than  was 


158  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

demanded  of  him,  and  make  that  free  confession  which  he 
had  refused  to  force.  But  ere  a  word  could  leave  his 
parted  lips  a  deadly  shade  passed  over  his  face,  his  knees 
gave  under  him,  and  staggering  to  save  himself,  he  fell  to  the 
ground  in  a  swoon. 

Then,  whilst  all  we  men  stood  fixed  in  wonderment,  Moll, 
with  the  quick,  helpful  impulse  of  her  womanhood,  ran 
swiftly  from  her  place  to  his  side,  and  dropping  on  her 
knees  cried  for  water  to  be  brought  her. 

"  Dead  of  hunger,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  in  my  ear.  "  Fetch 
a  flask  of  brandy." 

And  then,  laying  hold  of  Simon  by  the  shoulder,  he 
pointed  significantly  to  the  open  door.  This  hint  Simon 
was  not  slow  to  take,  and  when  I  returned  from  the  buttery 
with  a  case  of  strong  waters,  I  found  no  one  in  the  room  but 
Don  Sanchez,  and  Moll  with  the  fainting  man's  head  upon 
her  lap,  bathing  his  temples  gently.  Life  had  not  come 
back,  and  the  young  man's  face  looked  very  handsome  in 
death,  the  curls  pushed  back  from  his  brow,  and  his  long 
features  still  and  colourless  like  a  carved  marble. 

Then  with  a  "  lack-a-day "  and  "  alas,"  in  bustles  Mrs. 
Butterby  with  a  bottle  of  cordial  in  one  hand  and  a  bunch 
of  burning  feathers  in  the  other. 

"  Fling  that  rubbish  in  the  chimney,"  says  the  Don.  "  I 
know  this  malady  —  well  enough,"  and  pouring  some  hoi- 
lands  in  a  cup  he  put  it  to  the  dead  man's  parted  lips. 

In  a  few  moments  he  breathed  again,  and  hearing  Moll's 
cry  of  joy,  he  opened  his  eyes  as  one  waking  from  a  dream 
and  turned  his  head  to  learn  what  had  happened.  Then 
finding  his  head  in  Moll's  lap  and  her  small,  soft,  cool  hand 
upon  his  brow,  a  smile  played  over  his  wasted  face.  And 


THE    STRICKEN    MAN    RECOVERS    HIS    LIFE.          159 

well,  indeed,  might  he  smile  to  see  that  young  figure  of 
justice  turned  to  the  living  image  of  tender  mercy. 

Perceiving  him  out  of  danger,  and  recovering  her  own  wits 
at  the  same  time,  Mrs.  Butterby  cries  :  "  Lord  !  Madam,  do 
let  me  call  a  maid  to  take  your  place  ;  for,  dear  heart !  you 
have  quite  spoiled  your  new  gown  with  this  mess  of  water, 
and  all  for  such  a  paltry  fellow  as  this  ! " 

Truly,  it  must  have  seemed  to  her  understanding  an  out- 
rageous thing  that  a  lady  of  her  mistress'  degree  should  be 
nursing  such  a  ragged  rascal ;  but  to  me,  knowing  Moll's 
helpful,  impulsive  disposition,  'twas  no  such  extraordinary 
matter,  for  she  at  such  a  moment  could  not  entertain  those 
feelings  which  might  have  restrained  a  lady  of  more  refined 
breeding. 

The  pretty  speech  of  Mrs.  Butterby,  reaching  the  fallen 
man's  ear,  seemed  instantly  to  quicken  his  spirits,  and,  cast- 
ing off  his  lethargic  humour,  he  quickly  staggered  to  his  feet, 
while  we  raised  Moll.  Then,  resting  one  hand  upon  the 
table  for  support,  he  craved  her  pardon  for  giving  so  much 
trouble,  but  in  a  very  faint,  weak  voice. 

"I  would  have  done  as  much  for  a  dog,"  says  Moll. 
"  My  friends  will  render  you  what  further  services  are  fit ; 
and,  if  it  appears  that  you  have  been  unjustly  used  (as  I  do 
think  you  have),  be  sure  you  shall  have  reparation." 

"  I  ask  no  more,"  says  he,  "  than  to  be  treated  as  I  may 
merit  in  your  esteem." 

"  Justice  shall  be  done,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  in  his  stern 
voice,  and  with  that  he  conducts  Moll  to  the  door. 

But  Moll  was  not  content  with  this  promise  of  justice. 
For  the  quality  of  mercy  begetteth  love,  so  that  one  cannot 
moderate  one's  anger  against  an  enemy,  but  it  doth  breed 


l6o  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

greater  compassion  and  leniency  by  making  one  better  con- 
tent with  oneself,  and  therefore  more  indulgent  to  others. 
And  so,  when  she  had  left  the  room,  she  sends  in  her  maid 
to  fetch  me,  and  taking  me  aside  says  with  vivacity : 

"  I  will  have  no  punishment  made  upon  that  man." 

"  Nay,"  says  I,  "  but  if  'tis  proved  that  his  intent  was  to 
rob  you  —  " 

"  What  then  !  "  says  she.  "  Hath  he  not  as  much  right 
to  this  estate  as  we  ?  And  are  we  one  whit  the  better  than 
he,  save  in  the  more  fortunate  issue  of  our  designs  ?  Under- 
stand me,"  adds  she,  with  passion ;  "  I  will  have  nothing 
added  to  his  unhappiness." 

I  found  the  young  man  seated  at  the  table,  and  Don 
Sanchez  gravely  setting  food  before  him.  But  he  would 
take  nothing  but  bread,  and  that  he  ate  as  though  it  were 
the  sweetest  meat  in  all  the  world.  I  lead  the  Don  to  the 
window,  and  there,  in  an  undertone,  told  him  of  Moll's 
decision ;  and,  whether  her  tone  of  supreme  authority 
amused  him  or  not,  I  cannot  say,  because  of  his  impassive 
humour,  but  he  answered  me  with  a  serious  inclination  of 
his  head,  and  then  we  fell  speaking  of  other  matters  in  our 
usual  tone,  until  the  young  man,  having  satisfied  the  cravings 
of  nature,  spoke  : 

"When  you  are  at  liberty,  gentlemen,"  says  he,  "to 
question  my  conduct,  I  will  answer  you." 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

Of  the  business  appointed  to  the  painter,  and  how  he  set  about  the  same. 

THE  young  man  had  risen  and  was  standing  by  the  table 
when  we  turned  from  the  window;  he  seemed  greatly  re- 
freshed, his  face  had  lost  its  livid  hue  of  passion  and 
death,  and  looked  the  better  for  a  tinge  of  colour.  He 
met  our  regard  boldly,  yet  with  no  braggart,  insolent  air, 
but  the  composure  of  a  brave  man  facing  his  trial  with 
a  consciousness  of  right  upon  his  side. 

"I  would  ask  you,"  says  the  Don,  seating  himself  on 
t'other  side  the  table,  "why  you  refused  to  do  that 
before?" 

"Sir,"  answers  he,  "I  have  lost  everything  in  the  world 
save  some  small  modicum  of  pride,  which,  being  all  I  have, 
I  do  cherish,  maybe,  unduly.  And  so,  when  these  unman- 
nerly hinds  took  me  by  the  throat,  calling  on  me  to  tell  my 
name  and  business,  this  spirit  within  me  flaring  up,  I  could 
not  answer  with  the  humility  of  a  villain  seeking  to  slink 
out  of  danger  by  submissive  excuses." 

"Be  seated,"  says  the  Don,  accepting  this  explanation 
with  a  bow.  " How  may  we  call  you?  " 

"In  Venice,"  replies  the  other,  with  some  hesitation, 
"I  was  called  Dario  —  a  name  given  me  by  my  fellow- 
scholars  because  my  English  name  was  not  to  their  taste." 

"Enough,"  says  the  Don.  "I  can  understand  a  man  of 
better  fortune,  as  I  perceive  you  have  been,  wishing  in 
such  a  position  as  this  to  retain  his  incognito.  There  are 
M  161 


1 62  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

no  parks  in  Venice,  to  my  knowledge,  but  surely,  sir,  you 
would  not  enter  a  palazzo  there  uninvited  without  some 
reasonable  pretext." 

"  It  would  be  sufficient  that  in  such  a  house  as  this  I 
thought  I  might  find  some  employment  for  a  painter." 

"You  are  a  painter?  "  says  I. 

"A  poor  one,  as  you  see,"  replies  Dario,  with  a  signifi- 
cant glance  at  his  clothes. 

Don  Sanchez  turned  to  me,  hunching  his  shoulders. 

"'Tis  clear,"  says  he,  "that  Signor  Dario  has  been 
grossly  abused  by  our  lady's  over-zealous  steward.  You 
have  but  to  tell  us,  sir,  what  reparation  we  can  make 
you." 

"I'll  not  refuse  it,"  answers  Dario,  eagerly.  "You 
shall  grant  me  permission  to  prove  the  honesty  of  my 
story  —  and  something  more  than  that.  Somewhere 
here,"  adds  he,  glancing  around  him,  "I'd  leave  a  tribute 
to  the  grace  of  that  dear  lady  who  brought  me  back  to  life." 

Don  Sanchez  assents  with  a  bow  to  this  proposal,  but 
with  a  rueful  glance  at  the  rich  panels  of  the  wall,  as  fear- 
ing this  painter  might  be  as  poor  in  talent  as  in  his  clothes 
—  the  latter  reflecting  discredit  on  the  former  —  and  would 
disfigure  the  handsome  walls  with  some  rude  daub. 

"Ah!"  cries  Dario,  casting  his  eye  upon  the  ceiling, 
which  was  plastered  in  the  Italian  mode  and  embellished 
with  a  poor  design  of  cherubs  and  clouds,  "  this  ceiling  is 
ill  done.  I  could  paint  a  fresco  that  would  less  disgrace 
the  room." 

"You  will  need  materials,"  says  the  Don,  laying  his 
purse  upon  the  table.  "  When  you  return  with  them,  you 
may  rely  upon  having  our  lady's  consent  to  your  wishes." 


DARIO    NO    OUTLAW,    BUT    A    POOR    PAINTER.        163 

The  painter  took  the  purse  with  a  bow  of  acknowledgment, 
and  no  more  hesitation  than  one  gentleman  would  show  in 
receiving  an  obligation  from  another,  and  presently  left  us. 

"Shall  we  see  him  again,  think  ye,  Senor?"  I  asked 
when  we  were  left  to  ourselves. 

He  nodded,  but  with  such  a  reflective,  sombre  air,  that 
I  was  impelled  to  ask  him  if  he  lacked  confidence  in  the 
story  told  us  by  the  painter. 

"His  story  may  be  true  enough,  but  whether  Signor 
Dario  be  an  honest  man  or  not  is  another  matter.  A 
painter's  but  a  man.  A  ruined  gentleman  will  accommodate 
his  principles  to  circumstances  "  (with  a  side  glance  that 
seemed  to  say,  "I  am  a  ruined  gentleman")  —  "and  my 
mind  would  be  easier  if  I  knew  by  what  curious  accident 
a  painter  in  need  should  find  himself  in  the  heart  of  Kent, 
and  why  fixing  on  this  house  to  seek  employment  he  should 
linger  to  the  point  of  starvation  before  he  can  pluck  up 
courage  to  ask  a  simple  question.  We  must  keep  our  eyes 
open,  Mr.  Hopkins,  and,"  adds  he,  dropping  his  voice, 
"our  mouths  shut." 

I  could  not  sleep  that  night  for  thinking  of  house- 
breakings  and  bloody  struggles  for  dear  life;  for  'tis  a 
matter  of  common  report  that  this  sort  of  robbers,  ere  they 
make  attack,  do  contrive  to  get  one  of  their  number  into 
the  house  that  he  may  learn  where  good  goods  are  stowed, 
which  part  is  easiest  of  attack,  etc. 

I  know  not  whether  these  quakings  were  shared  by  the 
Don,  but  certainly  our  misgivings  never  entered  Moll's  little 
head.  Nay,  rather,  her  romantic  disposition  did  lead  her 
(when  she  heard  our  narration)  to  conceive  that  this  mys- 
terious Dario  might  be  some  wandering  genius,  whose  work 


164  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

upon  our  ceiling  would  make  the  Court  for  ever  glorious. 
And  while  in  this  humour  she  bade  me  go  to  Simon,  whose 
presence  she  would  not  tolerate  in  her  house,  and  make 
him  acquainted  with  her  high  displeasure,  and  further- 
more, to  command  that  he  should  make  satisfactory  apol- 
ogy to  Dario  upon  his  return.  So  to  him  I  went,  and  he 
wringing  his  hands  in  anguish  deplored  that  his  best 
endeavours  to  serve  his  mistress  served  only  to  incense  her 
the  more  against  him.  But  for  his  apology  he  declared 
that  has  been  made  the  moment  he  heard  of  the  gentleman's 
release,  at  the  same  time  that  he  restored  to  him  his  hat 
and  a  pocket-book  which  had  fallen  from  his  pocket. 

This  did  somewhat  reassure  me,  knowing  full  well  that 
Simon  would  not  have  given  up  this  book  without  first 
acquainting  himself  with  its  contents,  and  urging  that  had 
there  been  anything  in  it  to  incriminate  him,  he  had  cer- 
tainly laid  it  before  his  mistress  for  his  own  justification. 

A  couple  of  days  after  this,  as  Don  Sanchez  and  I  were 
discoursing  in  the  great  avenue,  Dario  presents  himself, 
looking  all  the  better  for  a  decent  suit  of  clothes  and  a 
more  prosperous  condition,  and  Moll  joining  us  at  that 
moment,  he  makes  her  a  very  handsome  obeisance  and 
standing  uncovered  before  her,  begs  to  know  if  it  is  her 
will  that  he  should  paint  the  ceiling  of  her  dining-hall. 

As  he  spoke,  the  colour  rose  on  his  cheek,  and  a  shaft 
of  sunlight  falling  on  his  curling  hair,  which  shone  with 
the  lustre  of  health,  made  him  look  as  comely  a  man  as 
ever  I  did  see,  and  a  good  five  years  younger  than  when  he 
stood  before  us  in  the  extremity  of  distress. 

"Sir,"  says  Moll,  "were  you  my  debtor  as  much  as  I  am 
yours,  I  could  not  ask  for  better  payment." 


MOLL'S    ROMANTIC    FANCIES    UPSET.  165 

Don  Sanchez  put  an  end  to  this  pretty  exchange  of  cour- 
tesies —  which  maybe  he  considered  overmuch  as  between 
a  lady  of  Moll's  degree  and  one  who  might  turn  out  to  be 
no  more  than  an  indifferent  painter  at  the  best  —  by  pro- 
posing that  Dario  should  point  out  what  disposition  he 
would  have  made  for  his  convenience  in  working.  So  he 
went  within  doors,  and  there  Dario  gave  orders  to  our  gar- 
dener, who  was  a  handy  sort  of  Jack-of-all-trades,  what 
pieces  of  furniture  should  be  removed,  how  the  walls  and 
floor  should  be  protected,  and  how  a  scaffold  should  be  set 
up  for  him  to  work  on.  And  the  gardener  promising  to 
carry  out  all  these  instructions  in  the  course  of  the  day, 
Dario  took  his  leave  of  us  in  a  very  polished  style,  saying 
he  would  begin  his  business  the  next  morning  betimes. 

Sure  enough,  we  were  awoke  next  day  by  a  scraping 
below,  and  coming  down,  we  found  our  painter  in  a  scull- 
cap  and  a  smock  that  covered  him  to  his  heels,  upon  his 
scaffold,  preparing  the  ceiling  in  a  very  workmanlike  man- 
ner. And  to  see  him  then,  with  his  face  and  beard  thickly 
crusted  over  with  a  mess  of  dry  plaster  and  paint,  did  I 
think  somewhat  dispel  those  fanciful  illusions  which  our 
Moll  had  fostered  —  she,  doubtless,  expecting  to  find  him 
in  a  very  graceful  attitude  and  beautiful  to  look  at,  cre- 
ating a  picture  as  if  by  inchantment.  Her  mortification 
was  increased  later  in  the  day  when,  we  having  invited  him 
on  her  insistence  to  dine  at  our  table,  he  declined  (civilly 
enough),  saying  he  had  brought  his  repast  with  him,  and 
we  presently  found  him  seated  astride  one  of  his  planks 
with  a  pocket  knife  in  one  hand  and  a  thumb-piece  of 
bread  and  bacon  in  the  other,  which  he  seemed  to  be  eating 
with  all  the  relish  in  the  world. 


l66  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"  Why,  he  is  nought  but  a  common  labourer,"  says  Moll, 
disgusted  to  see  him  regaling  himself  in  this  fashion,  as 
we  returned  to  our  room.  "  A  pretty  picture  we  are  like  to 
get  for  all  this  mess  and  inconvenience  ! " 

And  her  idol  being  broken  (as  it  were),  and  all  her  foncl 
fancies  dashed,  she  would  not  as  much  as  look  at  him  again 
nor  go  anigh  the  room,  to  be  reminded  of  her  folly. 

However,  on  the  third  day  Dario  sent  to  ask  if  she  would 
survey  his  outlines  and  decide  whether  the  design  pleased 
her  or  not.  For  this  purpose  he  had  pushed  aside  his 
scaffold,  and  here  we  saw  a  perspective  done  on  the  ceiling 
in  charcoal,  representing  a  vaulted  roof  with  an  opening  to 
the  sky  in  the  middle,  surrounded  by  a  little  balcony  with 
trailing  plants  running  over  it,  and  flowers  peeping  out 
betwixt  the  balusters.  And  this,  though  very  rough,  was 
most  artificial,  making  the  room  look  twice  its  height,  and 
the  most  admirable,  masterly  drawing  that  I  did  ever  see. 

And  now  Moll,  who  had  prepared  a  courteous  speech  to 
cover  the  contempt  she  expected  to  feel  for  the  work,  could 
say  nought  for  astonishment,  but  stood  casting  her  eyes 
round  at  the  work  like  one  in  a  maze. 

"  If  you  would  prefer  an  allegory  of  figures,"  says  Dario, 
misconceiving  her  silence. 

"  Nay,"  answers  she,  "  I  would  have  nothing  altered. 
Tis  wonderful  how  such  effect  can  be  made  with  mere  lines 
of  black.  I  can  scarce  believe  the  ceiling  is  flat."  And  then 
she  drops  her  eyes  upon  Dario,  regarding  him  with  wonder, 
as  if  doubting  that  such  a  dirty-looking  man  could  have 
worked  this  miracle. 

"  You  must  have  seen  better  designs  in  Rome,"  says  he. 

At  this  I  took  alarm,  not  thinking  for  the  moment  that  he 


AN    EXCELLENT    PERSPECTIVE.  l6/ 

might  have  picked  up  some  particulars  of  Judith  Godwin's 
history  from  Mrs.  Butterby,  or  the  curious  servants  who 
were  ever  prying  in  the  room. 

"  Tis  so  long  ago,"  says  Moll,  readily. 

"  I  think  I  have  seen  something  like  it  in  the  Holy  City," 
observes  the  Don,  critically. 

"  Probably.  Nothing  has  been  left  undone  in  Rome  — 
I  am  told.  It  has  not  been  my  good  fortune  to  get  so  far." 

This  was  good  news  j  for  otherwise  he  might  have  put 
some  posers  to  Moll,  which  she  had  found  it  hard  to 
answer  without  betraying  her  ignorance. 

Having  Moll's  approval,  Dario  set  to  work  forthwith  to 
colour  his  perspective ;  and  this  he  did  with  the  sure  firm 
hand  of  one  who  understands  his  business,  and  with  such 
nice  judgment,  that  no  builder,  whose  design  is  ordered  by 
fixed  rule  and  line,  could  accomplish  his  work  with  greater 
truth  and  justice.  He  made  it  to  appear  that  the  lower 
part  of  his  vaulted  roof  was  wainscoted  in  the  style  of  the 
walls,  and  to  such  perfection  that  'twould  have  puzzled 
a  conjurer  to  decide  where  the  oaken  panels  ended  and 
the  painted  ones  began. 

And  now  Moll  suffers  her  fancies  to  run  wild  again,  and 
could  not  sufficiently  marvel  over  this  poor  painter  and  his 
work,  of  which  she  would  discourse  to  such  lengths,  that 
both  the  Don  and  I  at  times  had  some  ado  to  stifle  our 
yawns.  She  would  have  it  that  he  was  no  common  man, 
but  some  great  genius,  compelled  by  misfortune  or  the  per- 
secution of  rivals,  to  wander  abroad  in  disguise,  taking  for 
evidence  the  very  facts  which  had  lately  led  her  to  condemn 
him,  pointing  out  that,  whereas  those  young  gentlemen  who 
courted  her  so  persistently  did  endeavour,  on  all  occasions, 


1 68  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

to  make  their  estate  and  natural  parts  appear  greater  than 
they  were,  this  Dario  did  not,  proving  that  he  had  no  such 
need  of  fictitious  advancement,  and  could  well  afford  to  let 
the  world  judge  of  his  worth  by  his  works,  etc.  This  point 
we  did  not  contest,  only  we  were  very  well  content  to 
observe  that  he  introduced  no  one  into  the  house,  had  no 
friends  in  the  village  (to  our  knowledge),  and  that  nought 
was  lacking  from  our  store  of  plate. 

She  never  tired  of  watching  him  at  his  work  —  having  the 
hardihood  to  mount  upon  the  scaffold  where  he  stood,  and 
there  she  would  sit  by  the  hour  on  a  little  stool,  chatting  like 
any  magpie,  when  the  nature  of  his  occupation  allowed  his 
thoughts  to  wander,  silent  as  a  mouse  when  she  perceived 
that  his  mind  was  absorbed  in  travail  —  ready  at  any 
moment  to  fetch  this  or  hold  t'other,  and  seizing  every 
opportunity  to  serve  him.  Indeed,  I  believe  she  would 
gladly  have  helped  him  shift  the  heavy  planks,  when  he 
would  have  their  position  altered,  had  he  permitted  her  this 
rough  usage  of  her  delicate  hands.  One  day,  when  he  was 
about  to  begin  the  foliage  upon  his  balcony,  he  brought  in 
a  spray  of  ivy  for  a  model ;  then  Moll  told  him  she  knew 
where  much  better  was  to  be  found,  and  would  have  him 
go  with  her  to  see  it.  And  she,  coming  back  from  this 
expedition,  with  her  arms  full  of  briony  and  herbage,  richly 
tinted  by  the  first  frost,  I  perceived  that  there  was  a  new 
kind  of  beauty  in  her  face,  a  radiance  of  great  happiness 
and  satisfaction  which  I  had  never  seen  there  before. 

Here  was  herbage  enough  for  a  week,  but  she  must  have 
fresh  the  next  morning,  and  thenceforth  every  day  they 
would  go  out  ere  the  sun  was  high,  hunting  for  new  models. 

To   prepare    for   these    early  excursions,   Mistress    Moll, 


MOLL    FALLS    DOWNRIGHT    IN    LOVE.  169 

though  commonly  disposed  to  lie  abed  late  in  the  morning, 
must  have  been  up  by  daybreak.  And,  despite  her  admira- 
tion of  Dario's  simplicity  in  dress,  she  showed  no  inclina- 
tion to  follow  his  example  in  this  particular;  but,  on  the 
contrary,  took  more  pains  in  adorning  her  person  at  this 
time  than  ever  she  had  done  before ;  and  as  she  would 
dress  her  hair  no  two  mornings  alike,  so  she  would  change 
the  fashion  of  her  dress  with  the  same  inconstancy  until  the 
sly  hussy  discovered  which  did  most  please  Dario's  taste; 
then  a  word  of  approval  from  him,  nay,  a  glance,  would  suf- 
fice to  fix  her  choice  until  she  found  that  his  admiration 
needed  rekindling.  And  so,  as  if  her  own  imagination  was 
not  sufficiently  forcible,  she  would  talk  of  nothing  with  her 
friends  but  the  newest  fashions  at  court,  with  the  result  that 
her  maids  were  for  ever  a-brewing  some  new  wash  for  her 
face  (which  she  considered  too  brown),  compounding 
charms  to  remove  a  little  mole  she  had  in  the  nape  of 
her  neck,  cutting  up  one  gown  to  make  another,  and  so 
forth.  One  day  she  presented  herself  with  a  black  patch  at 
the  corner  of  her  lip,  and  having  seen  nought  of  this  fashion 
before,  I  cried  out  in  alarm  : 

"  Lord,  child  !  have  you  injured  your  face  with  that  mess 
Betty  was  stewing  yesterday?" 

"  What  an  absurd,  old-fashioned  creature  you  are  ! "  an- 
swers she,  testily.  "  Don't  you  know  that  'tis  the  mode 
now  for  ladies  to  wear  spots?  Signor  Dario,"  adds  she, 
her  eyes  lighting  up,  "  finds  it  mighty  becoming." 

When  I  saw  her  thus  disfiguring  her  pretty  face  (as  I 
considered  it  then,  though  I  came  to  admire  this  embellish- 
ment later  on)  to  please  Signor  Dario,  I  began  to  ask 
myself  how  this  business  was  likely  to  end. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

Of  MoWs  ill  humour  and  what  befel  thereby. 

FEELING,  in  the  absence  of  Dawson,  that  I  stood  in  the 
position  of  a  guardian  to  his  daughter,  and  was  responsible 
for  her  welfare,  my  mind  grew  very  uneasy  about  the  conse- 
quences of  her  extravagant  admiration  for  the  painter ;  and, 
knowing  that  Don  Sanchez,  despite  his  phlegmatic  humour, 
loved  Moll  very  sincerely  at  heart,  I  took  him  aside  one  day, 
and  asked  him  if  he  had  observed  nothing  particular  in  Moll's 
behaviour  of  late. 

"  One  would  be  blind,"  says  he,  "not  to  see  that  she  is 
enamoured  of  Dario,  if  that's  what  you  mean." 

I  admitted  that  my  suspicions  inclined  that  way,  and,  ex- 
plaining my  concern  on  her  behalf,  I  asked  him  what  he 
would  do  in  my  place. 

"  In  my  country,"  says  he,  "  matters  never  would  have 
been  suffered  to  go  so  far,  and  Mistress  Judith  would  have 
been  shut  up  a  prisoner  in  her  room  these  past  three  weeks. 
But  I  doubt  if  our  maidens  are  any  the  safer  or  better  for 
such  treatment,  and  I  am  quite  sure  that  such  treatment 
would  be  worse  than  useless  for  an  English  girl,  and  espe- 
cially such  an  one  as  this.  For,  guard  her  how  you  might, 
she  would  assuredly  find  means  to  break  her  prison,  and 
then  no  course  is  open  to  her  but  to  throw  herself  in  the 
arms  of  the  man  she  loves,  trusting  to  mere  accident  whether 
he  abuses  her  devotion  or  not.  You  might  as  well  strive  to 

170 


SOUND  ADVICE  BUT  UNPALATABLE.      171 

catch  the  wind  and  hold  it  as  stay  and  stem  the  course  of 
youthful  passion." 

"Aye,  Senor,"  says  I,  "this  may  be  all  very  true.  But 
what  should  you  do  in  my  place? " 

"  Nothing,"  says  he. 

This  was  a  piece  of  advice  which  set  me  scratching  my 
head  in  dubitation. 

"Beware,"  continues  he,  "  how  you  suggest  the  thing  you 
fear  to  one  who  needs  but  a  hint  to  act.  I  have  great  faith 
in  the  natural  modesty  of  women  (and  I  do  think  no  child 
more  innocent  than  Mistress  Judith),  which,  though  it  blind 
them  to  their  danger,  does,  at  the  same  time,  safeguard  them 
against  secret  and  illicit  courses  of  more  fatal  consequences. 
Let  her  discourse  with  him,  openly,  since  it  pleases  her.  In 
another  fortnight  or  so  Dario's  work  will  be  finished,  he 
will  go  away,  our  young  lady  will  shed  secret  tears  and  be 
downcast  for  a  week.  Then  another  swain  will  please  her, 
and  she'll  smile  again.  That,  as  I  take  it,  will  be  the  natural 
order  of  events,  unless,"  adds  he,  "  that  natural  order  is  dis- 
turbed by  some  external  influence." 

Maugre  this  sage  advice,  my  concern  being  unabated,  I 
would  step  pretty  frequently  into  the  room  where  these  young 
people  were,  as  if  to  see  how  the  work  was  going  forward, 
and  with  such  a  quick  step  that  had  any  interchange  of 
amorous  sentiments  existed,  I  must  at  one  time  or  another 
have  discovered  it.  But  I  never  detected  any  sign  of  this 
—  no  bashful  silence,  no  sudden  confusion,  or  covert  inter- 
change of  glances.  Sometimes  they  would  be  chatting 
lightly,  at  others  both  would  be  standing  silent,  she,  maybe, 
holding  a  bunch  of  leaves  with  untiring  steadfastness,  for 
him  to  copy.  But  I  observed  that  she  was  exceedingly 


172  A    SET   OF    ROGUES. 

jealous  of  his  society,  and  no  matter  how  glibly  she  was  talking 
when  I  entered,  or  how  indifferent  the  subject,  she  would 
quickly  become  silent,  showing  me  very  plainly  by  her  man- 
ner that  she  would  vastly  prefer  my  room  to  my  company. 

Still,  I  was  not  displeased  when  I  perceived  this  fresco 
drawing  near  to  its  completion. 

"You  are  getting  on  apace,"  says  I,  very  cheerfully  one 
day.  "  I  reckon  you  will  soon  have  done." 

"Yes,"  answers  he,  "in  a  week  I  shall  have  nought  to  do 
but  to  pack  up  my  tools  and  go." 

There  was  an  accent  of  sorrow  in  his  voice,  despite  him- 
self, which  did  not  escape  me  nor  Moll  neither,  for  I  saw 
her  cast  her  eyes  upon  his  face,  as  if  to  read  if  there  were 
sadness  there.  But  she  said  never  a  word. 

However,  in  the  afternoon  she  comes  to  me,  and  says  she  : 

"  I  am  resolved  I  will  have  all  the  rooms  in  the  house 
plastered,  if  Signer  Dario  will  consent  to  paint  them." 

"  All  the  rooms  !  "  says  I,  in  alarm.  "  Surely  you  have 
not  counted  the  cost  of  what  you  propose." 

"  I  suppose  I  have  enough  to  keep  my  house  in  suitable 
condition." 

"  Without  doubt,  though  I  expect  such  work  as  Signer 
Dario's  must  command  a  high  price." 

"All  I  ask  of  you,  then,"  says  she,  "is  to  bid  my  steward 
have  five  thousand  pounds  ready  for  my  uses,  and  within 
a  week,  lest  I  should  need  it  suddenly.  Should  he  raise 
objections  —  " 

"  As  assuredly  he  will,"  says  I,  who  knew  the  crafty, 
subtle  character  of  old  Simon  full  well  by  this  time.  "  A 
thousand  objections,  and  not  one  you  can  pick  a  hole  in." 

"Then  show  him  this  and  tell  him  I  accept  Mr.  Good- 


MORE    MONEY    TO    BE    STOLE.  1/3 

man's  offer  unless  he  can  find  more  profitable  means  of 
raising  money." 

With  that  she  puts  in  my  hand  a  letter  she  had  that  morn- 
ing received  from  one  Henry  Goodman,  a  tenant,  who 
having  heard  that  she  had  disposed  of  a  farm  to  his  neigh- 
bour, now  humbly  prayed  she  would  do  him  the  same 
good  turn  by  selling  him  the  land  he  rented,  and  for  which 
he  was  prepared  to  pay  down  in  ready  money  the  sum  of 
five  thousand  pounds. 

Armed  with  this  letter,  I  sought  Simon  and  delivered  Moll's 
message.  As  I  expected,  the  wily  old  man  had  good  excuses 
ready  for  not  complying  with  this  request,  showing  me  the 
pains  he  had  taken  to  get  the  king's  seal,  his  failures  to  move 
the  king's  officers,  and  the  refusal  of  his  goldsmith  to  furnish 
further  supplies  before  the  deed  of  succession  was  passed. 

"  These  objections  are  all  very  just,"  says  I,  "  so  I  see  no 
way  of  pleasing  our  lady  but  by  selling  Mr.  Goodman's  farm, 
which  she  will  have  done  at  once  if  there  be  no  alternative." 

So  I  give  him  the  letter,  which  he  can  scarce  read  for 
trembling  with  anguish. 

"  What,"  cries  he,  coming  to  the  end,  "  I  am  to  sell  this 
land  which  I  bought  for  nine  hundred  pounds  and  is  now 
worth  six  thousand?  I  would  rather  my  mistress  had  bid 
me  have  the  last  teeth  torn  from  my  head." 

"  We  must  have  money,"  says  I. 

"  Thee  shalt  have  it  in  good  time.  Evans  hath  been  paid, 
and  thy  debt  shall  be  discharged  ;  fear  not." 

"  I  spoke  as  representing  our  lady ;  for  ourselves  we  are 
content  to  wait  her  better  convenience."  And  I  told  him 
how  his  mistress  would  lay  out  her  money  in  embellishing 
the  Court  with  paintings,  which  put  him  to  a  new  taking  to 


174  A  SET  OF  ROGUES. 

think  so  much  good  money  should  be  wasted  in  such 
vanities. 

"  But,"  says  he,  "  this  work  must  take  time,  and  one  pays 
for  nothing  ere  'tis  done.  By  quarter  day  our  rents  will  be 
coming  in  again  —  " 

"  No,"  says  I,  cutting  him  short,  "  the  money  must  be 
found  at  once,  or  be  assured  that  your  lady  will  take  the 
management  of  her  affairs  out  of  your  hands." 

This  raised  a  fresh  outcry  and  more  lamentations,  but  in 
the  end  he  promised  to  procure  the  money  by  collecting 
his  rents  in  advance,  if  his  mistress  would  refuse  Mr.  Good- 
man's offer  and  wait  three  weeks;  and  on  Moll's  behalf  I 
agreed  to  these  terms. 

A  few  days  after  this,  we  were  called  into  the  dining-hall 
to  see  the  finished  ceiling,  which  truly  deserved  all  the 
praise  we  could  bestow  upon  it,  and  more.  For  now  that 
the  sky  appeared  through  the  opening,  with  a  little  pearly 
cloud  creeping  across  it,  the  verdure  and  flowers  falling 
over  the  marble  coping,  and  the  sunlight  falling  on  one  side 
and  throwing  t'other  into  shade,  the  illusion  was  complete, 
so  that  one  could  scarcely  have  been  more  astonished  had 
a  leaf  fallen  from  the  hanging  flowers  or  a  face  looked  over 
the  balcony.  In  short,  'twas  prodigious. 

Nevertheless,  the  painter,  looking  up  at  his  work  with 
half -closed,  critical  eyes,  seemed  dissatisfied,  and  asking 
us  if  we  found  nothing  lacking,  we  (not  to  appear  behind- 
hand in  judgment)  agreed  that  on  one  side  there  was  a 
vacant  place  which  might  yet  be  adorned  to  advantage. 

"Yes,"  says  he,  "I  see  what  is  wanted  and  will  supply 
it.  That,"  adds  he,  gently  turning  to  Moll,  "will  give  me 
still  another  day." 


MOLL   DISPUTES    WITH    DARIO.  1/5 

"Why,  what  charm  can  you  add  that  is  not  there?  "  asks 
she. 

"Something,"  says  he,  in  a  low  voice,  "which  I  must 
see  whenever  I  do  cast  my  eyes  heavenwards." 

And  now  Moll,  big  with  her  purpose,  which  she  had 
hitherto  withheld  from  Dario,  begs  him  to  come  into  her 
state  room,  and  there  she  told  how  she  would  have  this 
ceiling  plastered  over  and  painted,  like  her  dining-hall,  if 
he  would  undertake  to  do  it. 

Dario  casts  his  eye  round  the  room  and  over  the  ceil- 
ing, and  then,  shaking  his  head,  says :  "  If  I  were  in  your 
place,  I  would  alter  nothing  here." 

"But  I  will  have  it  altered,"  says  she,  nettled,  because 
he  did  not  leap  at  once  at  her  offer,  which  was  made  rather 
to  prolong  their  communion  than  to  obtain  a  picture. 
"I  detest  these  old-fashioned  beams  of  wood." 

"  They  are  in  keeping  with  the  character  of  the  room.  I 
think,"  adds  he,  looking  round  him  again  with  renewed 
admiration,  "I  think  I  have  never  seen  a  more  perfect 
example  of  English  art." 

"What  of  that,"  cries  she,  "if  it  pleases  me  to  have  it 
otherwise?  " 

"Nothing,"  returns  he,  calmly.  "You  have  as  just  a 
right  to  stand  by  your  opinion  as  I  by  mine." 

"And  am  I  to  understand  that  you  will  rather  hold  by 
your  opinion  than  give  me  pleasure?  " 

"I  pray  you,  do  not  press  me  to  discourtesy,"  says  he. 

"Nay,  but  I  would  have  a  plain  answer  to  my  question," 
says  she,  haughtily. 

"Then,"  says  he,  angering  in  his  turn,  "I  must  tell  you 
that  I  would  as  soon  chip  an  antique  statue  to  suit  the 


1/6  A   SET    OF    ROGUES. 

taste  of  a  French  modiste  as  disfigure  the  work  of  him  who 
designed  this  room." 

Now,  whether  Moll  took  this  to  be  a  reflection  on  her 
own  figure,  which  had  grown  marvellous  slim  in  the  waist 
since  she  had  her  new  stays  from  London,  or  not,  I  will 
not  say;  but  certainly  this  response  did  exasperate  her  be- 
yond all  endurance  (as  we  could  see  by  her  blanched  cheek 
and  flashing  eye);  so,  dismissing  him  with  a  deep  curtsey, 
she  turns  on  her  heel  without  another  word. 

This  foolish  business,  which  was  not  very  creditable  to 
our  Moll's  good  sense  (though  I  think  she  acted  no  worse 
than  other  maids  in  her  condition, —  for  I  have  observed 
that  young  people  do  usually  lose  their  heads  at  the  same 
time  that  they  lose  their  hearts),  this  foolish  scene,  I  say, 
I  would  gladly  omit  from  my  history,  but  that  it  completely 
changed  our  destiny;  for  had  these  two  parted  with  fair 
words,  we  should  probably  have  seen  no  more  of  Dario,  and 
Don  Sanchez's  prognostic  had  been  realised.  Such  trifles 
as  these  do  influence  our  career  as  greatly  as  more  serious 
accidents,  our  lives  being  a  fabric  of  events  that  hang 
together  by  the  slenderest  threads. 

Unmoved  from  his  design  by  Moll's  displeasure,  Dario 
replaced  his  scaffold  before  he  left  that  day,  and  the  next 
morning  he  came  to  put  the  last  touch  upon  his  work. 
Moll,  being  still  in  dudgeon,  would  not  go  near  him,  but 
sat  brooding  in  a  corner  of  her  state  room,  ready,  as  I 
perceived,  to  fly  out  in  passion  at  any  one  who  gave  her  the 
occasion.  Perceiving  this,  Don  Sanchez  prudently  went 
forth  for  a  walk  after  dinner;  but  I,  seeing  that  some  one 
must  settle  accounts  with  the  painter  for  his  work,  stayed 
at  home.  And  when  I  observed  that  he  was  collecting  his 
materials  to  go,  I  went  in  to  Moll. 


MOLL    STILL    IN    DUDGEON.  177 

"My  dear,"  says  I,  "I  believe  Dario  is  preparing  to 
leave  us." 

"My  congratulations  to  him,"  says  she,  "for  'tis  evident 
he  is  weary  of  being  here." 

"Nay,  won't  you  come  in  and  see  his  work  now  'tis  fin- 
ished?" 

"No;  I  have  no  desire  to  see  it.  If  I  have  lost  my  taste 
for  Italian  art,  'tis  through  no  fault  of  his." 

"You  will  see  him,  surely,  before  he  goes." 

"No;  I  will  not  give  him  another  opportunity  to  presume 
upon  my  kindness." 

"Why,  to  be  sure,"  says  I,  like  a  fool,  "you  have  been 
a  little  over- familiar." 

"Indeed,"  says  she,  firing  up  like  a  cracker.  "Then  I 
think  'twould  have  been  kinder  of  you  to  give  me  a  hint  of 
it  beforehand.  However,  'tis  a  very  good  excuse  for  treat- 
ing him  otherwise  now." 

"Well,  he  must  be  paid  for  his  work,  at  any  rate." 

"  Assuredly.  If  you  have  not  money  enough,  I  will  fetch 
it  from  my  closet." 

"  I  have  it  ready,  and  here  is  a  purse  for  the  purpose. 
The  question  is,  how  much  to  put  in  it.  I  should  think 
such  a  perspective  as  that  could  not  be  handsomely  paid 
under  fifty  guineas." 

"  Then  you  will  give  him  a  hundred,  and  say  that  I  am 
exceedingly  obliged  to  him." 

I  put  this  sum  in  the  purse  and  went  out  into  the  hall 
where  Dario  was  waiting,  with  his  basket  of  brushes  beside 
him.  In  a  poor,  bungling,  stammering  fashion,  I  deliv- 
ered Moll's  message,  and  made  the  best  excuse  I  could  for 
delivering  it  in  her  stead. 


178  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

He  waited  a  moment  or  two  after  I  had  spoken,  and 
then,  says  he,  in  a  low  voice : 

"Is  that  all?" 

"Nay,"  says  I,  offering  the  purse,  "we  do  beg  you  to 
take  this  as  —  " 

He  stopped  me,  pushing  my  hand  aside. 

"I  have  taken  a  purse  from  Don  Sanchez,"  says  he. 
"There  was  more  in  it  than  I  needed  —  there  are  still 
some  pieces  left.  But  as  I  would  not  affront  him  by  offer- 
ing to  return  them,  so  I  beg  you  will  equally  respect  my 
feelings.  I  undertook  the  task  in  gratitude,  and  it  hath 
been  a  work  of  love  all  through,  well  paid  for  by  the  hap- 
piness that  I  have  found  here." 

He  stood  musing  a  little  while,  as  if  he  were  debating 
with  himself  whether  he  should  seek  to  overcome  Moll's 
resentment  or  not.  Then,  raising  his  head  quickly,  he  says : 

"  'Tis  best  so,  maybe.  Farewell,  sir "  (giving  me  his 
hand).  "Tell  her,"  adds  he,  as  we  stand  hand  in  hand  at 
the  door,  "  that  I  can  never  forget  her  kindness,  and  will 
ever  pray  for  her  happiness." 

I  found  the  door  ajar  and  Moll  pacing  the  room  very 
white,  when  I  returned.  She  checked  me  the  moment  I 
essayed  to  deliver  Dario's  message. 

"You  can  save  your  breath,"  says  she,  passionately. 
"I've  heard  every  word." 

"More  shame  for  you,"  says  I,  in  a  passion,  casting  my 
purse  on  the  table.  "  'Tis  infamous  to  treat  an  honest  gen- 
tleman thus,  and  silly  besides.  Come,  dear,"  altering  my 
tone,  "do  let  me  run  and  fetch  him  back." 

"  You  forget  whom  you  are  speaking  to,  Mr.  Hopkins," 
cries  she. 


MOLL'S  PRIDE  OVERCOME.  i/9 

I  saw  'twas  impossible  to  move  her  whilst  she  was  in  this 
mood,  for  she  had  something  of  her  father's  obstinate, 
stubborn  disposition,  and  did  yet  hope  to  bring  Dario  back 
to  her  feet,  like  a  spaniel,  by  harsh  treatment.  But  he 
came  no  more,  though  a  palette  he  had  overlooked  could 
have  given  him  the  excuse,  and  for  very  vexation  with  Moll 
I  was  glad  he  did  not. 

He  had  not  removed  the  scaffold,  but  when  I  went  upon 
it  to  see  what  else  he  had  put  into  his  painting,  the  fading 
light  only  allowed  me  to  make  out  a  figure  that  seemed  to 
be  leaning  over  the  balcony. 

Moll  would  not  go  in  there,  though  I  warrant  she  was 
dying  of  curiosity;  and  soon  after  supper,  which  she  could 
scarce  force  herself  to  touch,  she  went  up  to  her  own  cham- 
ber, wishing  us  a  very  distant,  formal  good-night,  and 
keeping  her  passionate,  angry  countenance. 

But  the  next  morning,  ere  I  was  dressed,  she  knocked  at 
my  door,  and,  opening  it,  I  found  her  with  swollen  eyes 
and  tears  running  down  her  cheeks. 

"  Come  down,"  says  she,  betwixt  her  sobs,  and  catching 
my  hand  in  hers.  "  Come  down  and  see." 

So  we  went  downstairs  together,  —  I  wondering  what  now 
had  happened,  —  and  so  into  the  dining-hall.  And  there  I 
found  the  scaffold  pushed  aside,  and  the  ceiling  open  to 
view.  Then  looking  up,  I  perceived  that  the  figure  bending 
over  the  balcony  bore  Moll's  own  face,  with  a  most  sweet, 
compassionate  expression  in  it  as  she  looked  down,  such  as 
I  had  observed  when  she  bent  over  Dario,  having  brought 
him  back  to  life.  And  this,  thinks  I,  remembering  his 
words,  this  is  what  he  must  ever  see  when  he  looks  heaven- 
wards. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

Of  the  strange  things  told  us  by  the  wise  woman. 

"  TELL  me  I  am  wicked ;  tell  me  I'm  a  fool,"  says  Moll, 
clinging  to  my  arm. 

But  I  had  no  feeling  now  but  pity  and  forgiveness,  and  so 
could  only  try  to  comfort  her,  saying  we  would  make  amends 
to  Dario  when  we  saw  him  next. 

"  I  will  go  to  him,"  says  she.  "  For  nought  in  the  world 
would  I  have  him  yield  to  such  a  heartless  fool  as  I  am.  I 
know  where  he  lodges." 

"  Well,  when  we  have  eaten  —  " 

"  Nay ;  we  must  go  this  moment.  I  cannot  be  at  peace 
till  I  have  asked  him  to  forgive.  Come  with  me,  or  I  must 
go  alone." 

Yielding  to  her  desire  without  further  ado,  I  fetched  my 
hat  and  cloak,  and,  she  doing  likewise,  we  sallied  out  forth- 
with. Taking  the  side  path  by  which  Dario  came  and  went 
habitually,  we  reached  a  little  wicket  gate,  opening  from  the 
path  upon  the  highway ;  and  here,  seeing  a  man  mending 
the  road,  we  asked  him  where  we  should  find  Anne  Fitch, 
as  she  was  called,  with  whom  the  painter  lodged.  Pointing 
to  a  neat  cottage  that  stood  by  the  wayside,  within  a  stone's 
throw,  he  told  us  the  "wise  woman  "  lived  there.  We  crossed 
over  and  knocked  at  the  door,  and  a  voice  within  bidding 
us  come  in,  we  did  so. 

There  was  a  very  sweet,  pleasant  smell  in  the  room  from 
1 80 


ANNE    FITCH,    A    WISE    WOMAN.  l8l 

the  herbs  that  hung  in  little  parcels  from  the  beams,  for  this 
Anne  Fitch  was  greatly  skilled  in  the  use  of  simples,  and 
had  no  equal  for  curing  fevers  and  the  like  in  all  the  coun- 
try round.  (But,  besides  this,  it  was  said  she  could  look 
into  the  future  and  forecast  events  truer  than  any  Egyp- 
tian.) There  was  a  chair  by  the  table,  on  which  was  an 
empty  bowl  and  some  broken  bread ;  but  the  wise  woman 
sat  in  the  chimney  corner,  bending  over  the  hearth,  though 
the  fire  had  burnt  out,  and  not  an  ember  glowed.  And  a 
strange  little  elf  she  looked,  being  very  wizen  and  small,  with 
one  shoulder  higher  than  the  other,  and  a  face  full  of  pain. 

When  I  told  her  our  business,  —  for  Moll  was  too  greatly 
moved  to  speak,  —  the  old  woman  pointed  to  the  adjoining 
room. 

"  He  is  gone  !  "  cries  Moll,  going  to  the  open  door,  and 
peering  within. 

"  Yes,"  answers  Anne  Fitch.     "  Alas  !  " 

"When  did  he  go?"  asks  Moll. 

"  An  hour  since,"  answers  the  other. 

"Whither  is  he  gone?" 

"  I  am  no  witch." 

"  At  least,  you  know  which  way  he  went." 

"  I  have  not  stirred  from  here  since  I  gave  him  his  last 
meal." 

Moll  sank  into  the  empty  chair,  and  bowed  her  head  in 
silence. 

Anne  Fitch,  whose  keen  eyes  had  never  strayed  from 
Moll  since  she  first  entered  the  room,  seeming  as  if  they 
would  penetrate  to  the  most  secret  recesses  of  her  heart, 
with  that  shrewd  perception  which  is  common  to  many 
whose  bodily  infirmity  compels  an  extraordinary  employ- 


1 82  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

ment  of  their  other  faculties,  rises  from  her  settle  in  the 
chimney,  and  coming  to  the  table,  beside  Moll,  says  : 

"  I  am  no  witch,  I  say ;  yet  I  could  tell  you  things  would 
make  you  think  I  am." 

"  I  want  to  know  nothing  further,"  answers  she,  dolefully, 
"  save  where  he  is." 

"Would  you  not  know  whether  you  shall  ever  see  him 
again,  or  not  ?  " 

"  Oh  !     If  you  can  tell  me  that !  "  cries  Moll,  quickly. 

"  I  may."  Then,  turning  to  me,  the  wise  woman  asks  to 
look  at  my  hand,  and  on  my  demurring,  she  says  she  must 
know  whether  I  am  a  friend  or  an  enemy,  ere  she  speaks 
before  me.  So,  on  that,  I  give  my  hand,  and  she  ex- 
amines it. 

"You  call  yourself  James  Hopkins,"  says  she. 

"  Why,  every  one  within  a  mile  knows  that,"  says  I. 

"Aye,"  answers  she,  fixing  her  piercing  eye  on  my  face; 
"  but  every  one  knows  not  that  some  call  you  Kit." 

This  fairly  staggered  me  for  a  moment. 

"  How  do  you  answer  that?  "  she  asks,  observing  my  con- 
fusion. 

"Why,"  says  I,  recovering  my  presence  of  mind,  "'tis 
most  extraordinary,  to  be  sure,  that  you  should  read  this,  for 
save  one  or  two  familiars,  none  know  that  my  second  name 
is  Christopher." 

"  A  fairly  honest  hand,"  says  she,  looking  at  my  hand 
again.  "  Weak  in  some  things,  but  a  faithful  friend.  You 
may  be  trusted." 

And  so  she  drops  my  hand  and  takes  up  Moll's. 

"  'Tis  strange,"  says  she.  "  You  call  yourself  Judith,  yet 
here  I  see  your  name  writ  Moll." 


THE  WISE  WOMAN  DO  SET  US  A  QUESTIONING.       183 

Poor  Moll,  sick  with  a  night  of  sorrow  and  terrified  by  the 
wise  woman's  divining  powers,  could  make  no  answer ;  but 
soon  Fitch,  taking  less  heed  of  her  tremble  than  of  mine,  re- 
gards her  hand  again. 

"  How  were  you  called  in  Barbary  ?  "  asks  she. 

This  question  betraying  a  flaw  in  the  wise  woman's  per- 
ception, gave  Moll  courage,  and  she  answered  readily 
enough  that  she  was  called  "  Lala  Mollah  "  —  which  was 
true,  "  Lala  "  being  the  Moorish  for  lady,  and  "  Mollah  "  the 
name  her  friends  in  Elche  had  called  her  as  being  more 
agreeable  to  their  ear  than  the  shorter  English  name. 

"Mollah  —  Moll!"  says  Anne  Fitch,  as  if  communing 
with  herself.  "That  may  well  be."  Then,  following  a  line 
in  Moll's  hand,  she  adds,  "  You  will  love  but  once,  child." 

"  What  is  my  sweetheart's  name  ?  "  whispers  Moll,  the 
colour  springing  in  her  face. 

"  You  have  not  heard  it  yet,"  replies  the  other,  upon  which 
Moll  pulls  her  hand  away  impatiently.  "  But  you  have  seen 
him,"  continues  the  wise  woman,  "  and  his  is  the  third  hand 
in  which  I  have  read  another  name." 

"Tell  me  now  if  I  shall  see  him  again,"  cries  Moll, 
eagerly  —  offering  her  hand  again,  and  as  quickly  as  she 
had  before  withdrawn  it. 

"  That  depends  upon  yourself,"  returns  the  other.  "  The 
line  is  a  deep  one.  Would  you  give  him  all  you  have  ?  " 

Moll  bends  her  head  low  in  silence,  to  conceal  her  hot 
face. 

"  'Tis  nothing  to  be  ashamed  of,"  says  the  old  woman,  in 
a  strangely  gentle  tone.  "  'Tis  better  to  love  once  than  often  ; 
better  to  give  your  whole  heart  than  part.  Were  I  young  and 
handsome  and  rich,  I  would  give  body  and  soul  for  such  a 


1 84  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

man.  For  he  is  good  and  generous  and  exceeding  kind. 
Look  you,  he  hath  lived  here  but  a  few  weeks,  and  I  feel  for 
him,  grieve  for  him,  like  a  mother.  Oh,  I  am  no  witch," 
adds  she,  wiping  a  tear  from  her  cheek,  "  only  a  crooked  old 
woman  with  the  gift  of  seeing  what  is  open  to  all  who  will 
read,  and  a  heart  that  quickens  still  at  a  kind  word  or  a 
gentle  thought."  (Moll's  hand  had  closed  upon  hers  at  that 
first  sight  of  her  grief.)  "For  your  names,"  continues  she, 
recovering  her  composure,  "  I  learnt  from  one  of  your  maids 
who  came  hither  for  news  of  her  sweetheart,  that  the  sea 
captain  who  was  with  you  did  sometimes  let  them  slip.  I 
was  paid  to  learn  this." 

"  Not  by  him,"  says  Moll. 

"  No  ;  by  your  steward  Simon." 

"  He  paid  for  that ! "  says  I,  incredulous,  knowing  Simon's 
reluctance  to  spend  money. 

"  Aye,  and  a  good  price,  too.  It  seems  you  call  heavily 
upon  him  for  money,  and  do  threaten  to  cut  up  your  estate 
and  sell  the  land  he  prizes  as  his  life." 

"That  is  quite  true,"  says  I. 

"  Moreover,  he  greatly  fears  that  he  will  be  cast  from  his 
office,  when  your  title  to  it  is  made  good.  For  that  reason 
he  would  move  heaven  and  earth  to  stay  your  succession  by 
casting  doubts  upon  your  claim.  And  to  this  end  he  has 
by  all  the  means  at  his  command  tried  to  provoke  your 
cousin  to  contest  your  right." 

"  My  cousin  !  "  cries  Moll. 

"  Richard  Godwin." 

"My  cousin  Richard  —  why,  where  is  he?" 

"Gone,"  says  the  old  woman,  pointing  to  the  broken 
bread  upon  the  table. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

How  Moll  and  Mr.   Godwin  come  together  and  declare  their  hearts* 
passion,  and  how  I  carry  these  tidings  to  Dawson. 

"WHAT!"  cries  Moll,  starting  to  her  feet.  "  He  whom 
I  have  treated  thus  is  — "  and  here  she  checked  herself,  as 
if  recoiling  (and  for  the  first  time)  from  false  pretence  in 
a  matter  so  near  her  heart. 

"  He  is  your  cousin,  Richard  Godwin,"  says  the  wise 
woman.  "Simon  knew  this  from  the  first;  for  there  were 
letters  showing  it  in  the  pocket-book  he  found  after  the 
struggle  in  the  park ;  but  for  his  own  ends  he  kept  that 
knowledge  secret,  until  it  fitted  his  ends  to  speak.  Why 
your  cousin  did  not  reveal  himself  to  you  may  be  more 
readily  conceived  by  you  than  'twas  by  me." 

"  Why,  'tis  clear  enough,"  says  Moll.  "  Pressed  by  his 
necessities,  he  came  hither  to  claim  assistance  of  his  kins- 
man ;  but  finding  he  was  dead  and  none  here  but  me,  his 
pride  did  shrink  from  begging  of  a  mere  maid  that  which  he 
might  with  justice  have  demanded  from  a  man.  And  then, 
for  shame  at  being  handled  like  a  rogue  —  " 

Surely  there  is  something  in  the  blood  of  a  gentleman 
that  tempers  his  spirit  to  a  degree  scarcely  to  be  compre- 
hended by  men  of  meaner  birth,  thinks  I. 

"  When  did  Simon  urge  him  to  dispute  my  rights  ?  "  asks 
Moll. 

"On  Sunday  —  in  the  wood  out  there.  I  knew  by  his 
185 


1 86  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

look  he  had  some  treacherous  business  in  hand,  and,  match- 
ing my  stealth  with  his,  I  found  means  to  overhear  him, 
creeping  from  thicket  to  thicket,  as  noiseless  as  a  snake,  to 
where  they  stood ;  for,  be  assured,  I  should  not  otherwise 
have  learnt  one  word  of  this." 

"How  did  he  receive  these  hints  at  my  ill  doing?"  asks 
Moll. 

"  Patiently,  till  the  tale  was  told ;  then,  taking  your  steward 
by  the  throat  with  sudden  passion,  he  cries  :  '  Why  should  I 
not  strangle  you,  rascal  ?  Twould  be  a  service  to  humanity. 
What  have  I  done  to  deserve  your  love,  or  this  lady  your 
hate  ?  •  Nothing.  You  would  pit  us  one  against  the  other 
merely  to  keep  your  hold  upon  these  lands,  and  gratify  your 
insensate  love  of  possession.  Go,  get  you  gone,  beast ! ' 
cries  he,  flinging  him  off;  '  'tis  punishment  enough  for  you 
to  live  and  know  you've  failed.  For,  had  you  proved  your 
case  to  my  conviction,  I'd  not  stir  a  hand  against  this  lady, 
be  she  who  she  may.  Nay,'  adds  he,  with  greater  fury,  '  I 
will  not  stay  where  my  loyalty  and  better  judgment  may  be 
affected  by  the  contagion  of  a  vile  suspicion.  Away  while 
you  may ;  my  fingers  itch  to  be  revenged  on  you  for  sunder- 
ing me  from  one  who  should  have  been  my  closest,  dearest 
friend.' " 

Moll  claps  her  hands  together  with  a  cry  of  joy  and  pain 
mingled,  even  as  the  smile  played  upon  her  lips  whilst  tears 
filled  her  eyes. 

"  Sunday  !  "  cries  she,  turning  to  me  and  dashing  the  tears 
that  blinded  her  from  her  eyes ;  "  Sunday,  and  it  'twas  o' 
Monday  he  refused  to  stay.  O,  the  brave  heart !  "  Then, 
in  impetuous  haste,  "  He  shall  be  found  —  we  must  overtake 
him." 


SET    OUT    IN    PURSUIT    OF    MR.    GODWIN.  l/ 

"That  mayjbe  done  if  you  take  horse,"  says  Anne  Fitch, 
"  for  he  travels  afoot." 

"  But  which  way  shall  we  turn  ?  " 

"The  way  that  any  man  would  take,  seeking  to  dispel 
a  useless  sorrow,"  answers  the  wise  woman;  "the  way  to 
London." 

"God  bless  you  !"  cries  Moll,  clasping  the  withered  old 
woman  to  her  heaving  breast  and  kissing  her.  Then  the 
next  moment  she  would  be  gone,  bidding  me  get  horses  for 
our  pursuit. 

So,  as  quickly  as  I  might,  I  procured  a  couple  of  nags, 
and  we  set  out,  leaving  a  message  for  Don  Sanchez,  who  was 
not  yet  astir.  And  we  should  have  gone  empty,  but  that 
while  the  horses  were  a-preparing  (and  Moll,  despite  her 
mighty  haste  at  this  business  too),  I  took  the  precaution  to 
put  some  store  of  victuals  in  a  saddle  bag. 

Reckoning  that  Mr.  Godwin  (as  I  must  henceforth  call 
him)  had  been  set  out  two  hours  or  thereabouts,  I  considered 
that  we  might  overtake  him  in  about  three  at  an  easy  amble. 
But  Moll  was  in  no  mood  for  ambling,  and  no  sooner  were 
we  started  than  she  put  her  nag  to  a  gallop  and  kept  up  this 
reckless  pace  up  hill  and  down  dale,  —  I  trailing  behind  and 
expecting  every  minute  to  be  cast  and  get  my  neck  broke, — 
until  her  horse  was  spent  and  would  answer  no  more  to 
the  whip.  Then  I  begged  her  for  mercy's  sake  to  take  the 
hill  we  were  coming  to  at  a  walk,  and  break  her  fast. 
"For,"  says  I,  "another  such  half-hour  as  the  last  on  an 
empty  stomach  will  do  my  business,  and  you  will  have 
another  dead  man  to  bring  back  to  life,  which  will  advance 
your  journey  nothing,  and  so  more  haste,  less  speed." 
Therewith  I  opened  my  saddle  bag,  and  sharing  its  contents, 


1 88  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

we  ate  a  rare  good  meal  and  very  merry,  and  indeed  it  was 
a  pleasure  now  to  look  at  her  as  great  as  the  pain  had  been 
to  see  her  so  unhappy  a  few  hours  before.  For  the  exercise 
had  brought  a  flood  of  rich  colour  into  her  face,  and  a  lively 
hope  sparkled  in  her  eyes,  and  the  sound  of  her  voice  was 
like  any  peal  of  marriage  bells  for  gaiety.  Yet  now  and 
then  her  tongue  would  falter,  and  she  would  strain  a-  wistful 
glance  along  the  road  before  us  as  fearing  she  did  hope  too 
much.  However,  coming  to  an  inn,  we  made  enquiry,  and 
learnt  that  a  man  such  as  we  described  had  surely  passed 
the  house  barely  an  hour  gone,  and  one  adding  that  he 
carried  a  basket  on  his  stick,  we  felt  this  must  be  our  painter 
for  certain. 

Thence  on  again  at  another  tear  (as  if  we  were  flying 
from  our  reckoning)  until,  turning  a  bend  of  the  road  at  the 
foot  of  a  hill,  she  suddenly  drew  rein  with  a  shrill  cry.  And 
coming  up,  I  perceived  close  by  our  side  Mr.  Godwin, 
seated  upon  the  bridge  that  crossed  a  stream,  with  his 
wallet  beside  him. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  caught  in  an  instant  the  rein 
that  had  fallen  from  Moll's  hand,  for  the  commotion  in  her 
heart  at  seeing  him  so  suddenly  had  stopped  the  current  of 
her  veins,  and  she  was  deadly  pale. 

"  Take  me,  take  me  ! "  cries  she,  stretching  forth  her  arms, 
with  a  faint  voice.  "Take  me,  or  I  must  fall,"  and  slipping 
from  her  saddle  she  sank  into  his  open,  ready  arms. 

"  Help  ! "  says  Mr.  Godwin,  quickly,  and  in  terror. 

"Nay,"  says  she;  "I  am  better — 'tis  nothing.  But," 
adds  she,  smiling  at  him,  "  you  may  hold  me  yet  a  little 
longer." 

The  fervid  look  in  his  eyes,  as  he  gazed  down  at  her  sweet 


PRETTY    SPEECHES.  189 

pale  face,  seemed  to  say  :  "  Would  I  could  hold  you  here 
for  ever,  sweetheart." 

"  Rest  her  here,"  says  I,  pointing  to  the  little  wall  of  the 
bridge,  and  he,  complying  (not  too  willingly),  withdrew  his 
arm  from  her  waist,  with  a  sigh. 

And  now  the  colour  coming  back  to  her  cheek,  Moll 
turns  to  him,  and  says  : 

"  I  thought  you  would  have  come  again.  And  since  one 
of  us  must  ask  to  be  forgiven,  lo  !  here  am  I  come  to  ask 
your  pardon." 

"Why,  what  is  there  to  pardon,  Madam?  "  says  he. 

"  Only  a  girl's  folly,  which  unforgiven  must  seem  some- 
thing worse." 

"Your  utmost  folly,"  says  he,  "  is  to  have  been  over-kind 
to  a  poor  painter.  And  if  that  be  an  offence,  'tis  my  mis- 
fortune to  be  no  more  offended." 

"Have  I  been  over-kind?"  says  Moll,  abashed,  as  hav- 
ing unwittingly  passed  the  bounds  of  maiden  modesty. 

"  As  nature  will  be  over-bounteous  in  one  season,  strewing 
so  many  flowers  in  our  path  that  we  do  underprize  them  till 
they  are  lost,  and  all  the  world  seems  stricken  with  wintry 
desolation." 

"  Yet,  if  I  have  said  or  done  anything  unbecoming  to  my 
sex  —  " 

"  Nothing  womanly  is  unbecoming  to  a  woman,"  returns 
he.  "And,  praised  be  God,  some  still  live  who  have  not 
learned  to  conceal  their  nature  under  a  mask  of  fashion.  If 
this  be  due  less  to  your  natural  free  disposition  than  to  an 
ignorance  of  our  enlightened  modish  arts,  then  could  I  find 
it  in  my  heart  to  rejoice  that  you  have  lived  a  captive  in 
Barbary." 


A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 


They  had  been  looking  into  each  other's  eyes  with  the 
delight  of  reading  there  the  love  that  filled  their  hearts,  but 
now  Moll  bent  her  head  as  if  she  could  no  longer  bear  that 
searching  regard,  and  unable  to  make  response  to  his  pretty 
speech,  sat  twining  her  fingers  in  her  lap,  silent,  with  pain 
and  pleasure  fluttering  over  her  downcast  face.  And  at  this 
time  I  do  think  she  was  as  near  as  may  be  on  the  -point  of 
confessing  she  had  been  no  Barbary  slave,  rather  than 
deceive  the  man  who  loved  her,  and  profit  by  his  faith  in 
her,  which  had  certainly  undone  us  all  ;  but  in  her  passion, 
a  woman  considered  the  welfare  of  her  father  and  best 
friends  very  lightly  ;  nay,  she  will  not  value  her  own  body 
and  soul  at  two  straws,  but  is  ready  to  yield  up  everything 
for  one  dear  smile. 

A  full  minute  Mr.  Godwin  sat  gazing  at  Moll's  pretty, 
blushing,  half-hid  face  (as  if  for  his  last  solace),  and  then, 
rising  slowly  from  the  little  parapet,  he  says  : 

"  Had  I  been  more  generous,  I  should  have  spared  you 
this  long  morning  ride.  So  you  have  something  to  forgive, 
and  we  may  cry  quits  !  "  Then,  stretching  forth  his  hand, 
he  adds,  "  Farewell." 

"  Stay,"  cries  Moll,  springing  to  her  feet,  as  fearing  to  lose 
him  suddenly  again,  "  I  have  not  eased  myself  of  the  burden 
that  lay  uppermost.  Oh  !  "  cries  she,  passionately,  casting 
off  all  reserve,  "  I  know  all  ;  who  you  are,  and  why  you  first 
came  hither,  and  I  am  here  to  offer  you  the  half  of  all  I  have." 

"Half,  sweet  cousin?"  answers  he,  taking  her  two  hands 
in  his. 

"  Aye  ;  for  if  I  had  not  come  to  claim  it,  all  would  have 
been  yours  by  right.  And  'tis  no  more  than  fair  that,  owing 
so  much  to  Fortune,  I  should  offer  you  the  half." 


TWO    HEARTS    DO    MELT    IN    ONE.  IQI 

"Suppose  that  half  will  not  suffice  me,  dear?"  says  he. 

"  Why,  then  I'll  give  you  all,"  answers  she ;  "  houses, 
gardens,  everything." 

"  Then  what  will  you  do,  coz?  " 

"Go  hence,  as  you  were  going  but  just  now,"  answers  she, 
trembling. 

"  Why,  that's  as  if  you  took  the  diamond  from  its  setting, 
and  left  me  nothing  but  the  foil,"  says  he.  "  Oh,  I  would 
order  it  another  way :  give  me  the  gem,  and  let  who  'will 
take  what  remains.  Unless  these  little  hands  are  mine  to 
hold  for  ever,  I  will  take  nothing  from  them." 

"They  are  thine,  dear  love,"  cries  she,  in  a  transport, 
flinging  them  about  his  neck,  "  and  my  heart  as  well." 

At  this  conjuncture  I  thought  it  advisable  to  steal  softly 
away  to  the  bend  of  the  road ;  for  surely  any  one  coming 
this  way  by  accident,  and  finding  them  locked  together 
thus  in  tender  embrace  on  the  king's  highway,  would  have 
fallen  to  some  gross  conclusion,  not  understanding  their 
circumstances,  and  so  might  have  offended  their  delicacy 
by  some  rude  jest.  And  I  had  not  parted  myself  here  a 
couple  of  minutes,  ere  I  spied  a  team  of  four  stout  horses 
coming  over  the  brow  of  the  hill,  drawing  the  stage  waggon 
behind  them  which  plies  betwixt  Sevenoaks  and  London. 
This  prompting  me  to  a  happy  notion,  I  returned  to  the 
happy,  smiling  pair,  who  were  now  seated  again  upon  the 
bridge,  hand  in  hand,  and  says  I : 

"My  dear  friends,  —  for  so  I  think  I  may  now  count 
you,  sir,  as  well  as  my  Mistress  Judith  here,  —  the  waggon  is 
coming  down  the  hill,  by  which  I  had  intended  to  go  to 
London  this  morning  upon  some  pressing  business.  And 
so,  Madam,  if  your  cousin  will  take  my  horse  and  conduct 


IQ2  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

you  back  to  the  Court,  I  will  profit  by  this  occasion  and  bid 
you  farewell  for  the  present." 

This  proposal  was  received  with  evident  satisfaction  on 
their  part,  for  there  was  clearly  no  further  thought  of  part- 
ing ;  only  Moll,  alarmed  for  the  proprieties,  did  beg  her 
lover  to  lift  her  on  her  horse  instantly.  Nevertheless,  when 
she  was  in  her  saddle,  they  must  linger  yet,  he  to. kiss  her 
hands,  and  she  to  bend  down  and  yield  her  cheek  to  his  lips, 
though  the  sound  of  the  coming  waggon  was  close  at  hand. 

Scarcely  less  delighted  than  they  with  this  surprising 
strange  turn  of  events,  I  left  'em  there  with  bright,  smiling 
faces,  and  journeyed  on  to  London,  and  there  taking  a  pair  of 
oars  at  the  Bridge  to  Greenwich,  all  eagerness  to  give  these 
joyful  tidings  to  my  old  friend,  Jack  Dawson.  I  found  him 
in  his  workroom,  before  a  lathe,  and  sprinkled  from  head 
to  toe  with  chips,  mighty  proud  of  a  bed-post  he  was  a-turn- 
ing.  And  it  did  my  heart  good  to  see  him  looking  stout 
and  hearty,  profitably  occupied  in  this  business,  instead  of 
soaking  in  an  alehouse  (as  I  feared  at  one  time  he  would) 
to  dull  his  care ;  but  he  was  ever  a  stout,  brave  fellow,  who 
would  rather  fight  than  give  in  any  day.  A  better  man 
never  lived,  nor  a  more  honest  —  circumstances  permitting. 

His  joy  at  seeing  me  was  past  everything ;  but  his  first 
thought  after  our  hearty  greeting  was  of  his  daughter. 

"  My  Moll,"  says  he,  "  my  dear  girl ;  you  han't  brought 
her  to  add  to  my  joy?  She's  not  slinking  behind  a  door  to 
fright  me  with  delight,  hey?" 

"  No,"  says  I ;  "but  I've  brought  you  great  news  of  her." 

"And  good,  I'll  swear,  Kit,  for  there's  not  a  sad  line  in 
your  face.  Stay,  comrade,  wait  till  I've  shook  these  chips 
off  and  we  are  seated  in  my  parlour,  for  I  do  love  to  have  a 


CARRYING    GOOD    NEWS    TO    DAWSON.  193 

pipe  of  tobacco  and  a  mug  of  ale  beside  me  in  times  of 
pleasure.  You  can  talk  of  indifferent  things,  though,  for 
Lord  !  I  do  love  to  hear  the  sound  of  your  voice  again." 

I  told  him  how  the  ceiling  of  our  dining-hall  had  been 
painted. 

"  Aye,"  says  he.  "  I  have  heard  of  that ;  for  my  dear 
girl  hath  writ  about  that  and  nought  else  in  her  letters ; 
and  though  I've  no  great  fancy  for  such  matters,  yet  I  doubt 
not  it  is  mighty  fine  by  her  long-winded  praises  of  it.  Come, 
Kit,  let  us  in  here  and  get  to  something  fresher." 

So  we  into  his  parlour,  which  was  a  neat,  cheerful 
room,  with  a  fine  view  of  the  river,  and  there  being  duly 
furnished  with  a  mighty  mug  of  ale  and  clean  pipes,  he  bids 
me  give  him  my  news,  and  I  tell  him  how  Moll  had  fallen 
over  head  and  ears  in  love  with  the  painter,  and  he  with  her, 
and  how  that  very  morning  they  had  come  together  and 
laid  open  their  hearts'  desire  one  to  the  other,  with  the 
result  (as  I  believed)  that  they  would  be  married  as  soon 
as  they  could  get  a  parson  to  do  their  business. 

"  This  is  brave  news  indeed,"  cries  he,  "  and  easeth  me 
beyond  comprehension,  for  I  could  see  clearly  enough  she 
was  smitten  with  this  painter,  by  her  writing  of  nothing  else  ; 
and  seeing  she  could  not  get  at  his  true  name  and  condi- 
tion, I  felt  some  qualms  as  to  how  the  matter  might  end. 
But  do  tell  me,  Kit,  is  he  an  honest,  wholesome  sort  of 
man?" 

"  As  honest  as  the  day,"  says  I,  "  and  a  nobler,  handsomer 
man  never  breathed." 

"  God  be  praised  for  all  things,"  says  he,  devoutly.     "  Tell 
me  he's  an  Englishman,  Kit  —  as  Moll  did  seem  to  think  he 
was,  spite  his  foreign  name  —  and  my  joy's  complete." 
o 


IQ4  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"As  true-born  an  Englishman  as  you  are,"  says  I. 

"  Lord  love  him  for  it !  "  cries  he. 

Then  coming  down  to  particulars,  I  related  the  events  of 
the  past  few  days  pretty  much  as  I  have  writ  them  here, 
showing  in  the  end  how  Mr.  Godwin  would  have  gone  away, 
unknown  rather  than  profit  by  his  claim  as  Sir  Richard  God- 
win's kinsman,  even  though  Moll  should  be  no  better  than 
old  Simon  would  have  him  believe,  upon  which  he  cries, 
"  Lord  love  him  for  it,  say  I  again  !  Let  us  drink  to  their 
health.  Drink  deep,  Kit,  for  I've  a  fancy  that  no  man  shall 
put  his  lips  to  this  mug  after  us." 

So  I  drank  heartily,  and  he,  emptying  the  jug,  flung  it 
behind  the  chimney,  with  another  fervent  ejaculation  of 
gratitude.  Then  a  shade  of  sorrow  falling  on  his  face  as  he 
lay  it  in  his  hand,  his  elbow  resting  on  the  table  : 

"  I'd  give  best  half  of  the  years  I've  got  to  live,"  says  he, 
"to  see  'em  together,  and  grasp  Mr.  Godwin's  hand  in  mine. 
But  I'll  not  be  tempted  to  it,  for  I  perceive  clearly  enough 
by  what  you  tell  me  that  my  wayward  tongue  and  weakness 
have  been  undoing  us  all,  and  ruining  my  dear  Moll's  chance 
of  happiness.  But  tell  me,  Kit  "  (straightening  himself  up), 
"  how  think  you  this  marriage  will  touch  our  affairs  ?  " 

"  Only  to  better  them.  For  henceforth  our  prosperity  is 
assured,  which  otherwise  might  have  lacked  security." 

"  Aye,  to  be  sure,  for  now  shall  we  be  all  in  one  family 
with  these  Godwins,  and  this  cousin,  profiting  by  the  estate 
as  much  as  Moll,  will  never  begrudge  her  giving  us  a  hun- 
dred or  two  now  and  then,  for  rendering  him  such  good 
service." 

"  'Twill  appease  Moll's  compunctions  into  the  bargain," 
says  I,  heedlessly. 


DAWSON    WOULD    WARN    HIS    MOLL.  IQ5 

"  What  compunctions?  " 

"The  word  slipped  me  unintended," stammers  I;  "  I  mean 
nothing." 

"  But  something  your  word  must  mean.  Come,  out  with 
it,  Kit." 

"  Well,"  says  I,  "  since  this  fondness  has  possessed  her,  I 
have  observed  a  greater  compunction  to  telling  of  lies  than 
she  was  wont  to  have." 

"  Tis  my  fault,"  answers  he,  sadly.  "  She  gets  this  lean- 
ing to  honesty  from  me." 

"This  very  morning,"  continues  I,  "she  was,  I  truly 
believe,  of  two  minds  whether  she  should  not  confess  to  her 
sweetheart  that  she  was  not  his  cousin." 

"  For  all  the  world  my  case  ! "  cries  he,  slapping  the 
table.  "  If  I  could  only  have  five  minutes  in  secret  with 
the  dear  girl,  I  would  give  her  a  hint  that  should  make  her 
profit  by  my  folly."  And  then  he  tells  me  how,  in  the  hey- 
day of  courtship  and  the  flush  of  confiding  love,  he  did  con- 
fess to  his  wife  that  he  had  carried  gallantry  somewhat  too 
far  with  Sukey  Taylor,  and  might  have  added  a  good  half 
dozen  other  names  beside  hers  but  for  her  sudden  outcry ; 
and  how,  though  she  might  very  well  have  suspected  other 
amours,  she  did  never  reproach  him  therewith,  but  was  for 
ever  to  her  dying  day  a-flinging  Sukey  Taylor  in  his  teeth, 
etc. 

"Lord,  Kit!"  cries  he,  in  conclusion;  "what  would  I 
give  to  save  her  from  such  torment !  You  know  how  obedi- 
ent she  is  to  my  guiding,  for  I  have  ever  studied  to  make 
her  respect  me ;  and  no  one  in  the  world  hath  such  empire 
over  her.  Could  it  not  be  contrived  anyhow  that  we  should 
meet  for  half  an  hour  secretly?" 


IQ  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"Not  secretly,"  says  I.  "But  there  is  no  reason  why 
you  should  not  visit  her  openly.  Nay,  it  will  create  less 
surprise  than  if  you  stay  away.  For  what  could  be  more 
natural  than  your  coming  to  the  Court  on  your  return  from 
a  voyage  to  see  the  lady  you  risked  so  much  to  save?" 

"  Now  God  bless  you  for  a  good,  true  friend  ! "  cries  he, 
clasping  my  hand.  "  I'll  come,  but  to  stay  no  great  length. 
Not  a  drop  will  I  touch  that  day,  and  a  fool  indeed  I  must 
be  if  I  can't  act  my  part  without  bungling  for  a  few  hours  at 
a  stretch,  and  I  a-listening  every  night  in  the  parlour  of  the 
'  Spotted  Dog '  to  old  seamen  swearing  and  singing  their 
songs.  And  I'll  find  an  opportunity  to  give  Moll  a  hint  of 
my  past  folly,  and  so  rescue  her  from  a  like  pitfall.  I'll 
abide  by  your  advice,  Kit,  —  which  is  the  wisest  I  ever  heard 
from  your  lips." 

But  I  was  not  so  sure  of  this,  and,  remembering  the  kind 
of  obedience  Moll  had  used  to  yield  to  her  father's  com- 
mands, my  mind  misgave  me. 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

Don  Sanchez  proposes  a  very  artful  way  to  make  Mr,  Godwin  a  party 
to  our  knavery,  etc. 

I  RETURNED  to  Hurst  Court  the  following  day  in  the 
forenoon,  and  there  I  found  Mr.  Godwin,  with  Moll  cling- 
ing to  his  arm,  in  an  upper  room  commanding  a  view  of 
the  northern  slopes,  discussing  their  future,  and  Moll  told 
me  with  glee  how  this  room  was  to  be  her  husband's  work- 
room, where  he  would  paint  pictures  for  the  admiration  of 
all  the  world,  saying  that  he  would  not  (nor  would  she  have 
him)  renounce  his  calling  to  lead  the  idle  life  of  a  country 
gentleman. 

"  If  the  world  admire  my  pictures,  the  world  shall  pay 
to  have  them,"  says  he,  with  a  smile;  then  turning  to  her  he 
adds  very  tenderly :  "  I  will  owe  all  my  happiness  to  you, 
sweetheart;  yet  guard  my  independence  in  more  material 
matters.  No  mercenary  question  shall  ever  cast  suspicion 
on  my  love." 

Seeing  I  was  not  wanted  here,  I  left  them  to  settle  their 
prospectives,  and  sought  Don  Sanchez,  whom  I  found 
reading  in  a  room  below,  seated  in  a  comfortable  chair 
before  a  good  fire  of  apple  logs.  To  please  me,  he  shut  up 
his  book  and  agreed  to  take  a  stroll  in  the  park  while 
dinner  was  a-dressing.  So  we  clap  on  our  hats  and  cloaks 
and  set  forth,  talking  of  indifferent  matters  till  we  are 
come  into  a  fair  open  glade  (whicli  sort  of  place  the  pru- 

197 


198  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

dent  Don  did  ever  prefer  to  holes  and  corners  for  secret 
conference),  and  then  he  told  me  how  Moll  and  Mr.  Godwin 
had  already  decided  they  would  be  married  in  three  weeks. 

"Three  weeks?  "  says  I.  "  I  would  it  were  to  be  done  in 
three  days."  To  which  desire  the  Don  coincides  with 
sundry  grave  nods,  and  then  tells  me  how  Moll  would  have 
herself  cried  in  church,  for  all  to  know,  and  that  nothing 
may  be  wanting  to  her  husband's  dignity. 

"After  all,"  says  I,  "three  weeks  is  no  such  great  matter. 
And  now,  Senor,  do  tell  me  what  you  think  of  all  this." 

"  If  you  had  had  the  ordering  of  your  own  destiny,  you 
could  not  have  contrived  it  better, "  answers  he.  "  'Tis  a  most 
excellent  game,  and  you  cannot  fail  to  win  if "  (here  he 
pauses  to  blow  his  nose)  "  if  the  cards  are  played  properly." 

This  somehow  brought  Dawson  into  my  thoughts,  and  I 
told  the  Don  of  my  visit  to  him,  and  how  he  did  purpose 
to  come  down  to  see  Moll ;  whereat  the  Don,  stopping 
short,  looked  at  me  very  curiously  with  his  eyebrows 
raised,  but  saying  nothing. 

"  'Tis  no  more  than  natural  that  a  father  should  want  to 
see  what  kind  of  man  is  to  be  his  daughter's  husband," 
says  I,  in  excuse,  " and  if  he  w/7/come,  what  are  we  to  do?  " 

"  I  know  what  I  should  do  in  your  place,  Mr.  Hopkins," 
says  he,  quietly. 

"Pray,  Senor,  what  is  that?" 

"  Squeeze  all  the  money  you  can  out  of  old  Simon  before 
he  comes,"  answers  he.  "And  it  wouldn't  be  amiss  to 
make  Mr.  Godwin  party  to  this  business  by  letting  him 
have  a  hundred  or  two  for  his  present  necessities  at  once." 

Acting  on  this  hint,  when  Moll  left  us  after  supper  and 
we  three  men  were  seated  before  the  fire,  I  asked  Mr.  God- 


SERIOUS    DISCOURSE   WITH    MR.    GODWIN. 

win  if  he  would  permit  me  to  speak  upon  a  matter  which 
concerned  his  happiness  no  less  than  his  cousin  Judith's. 

"Nay,  sir,"  replies  he,  "I  do  pray  you  to  be  open  with 
me,  for  otherwise  I  must  consider  myself  unworthy  of  your 
friendship." 

"Well,  sir,"  says  I,  "my  mind  is  somewhat  concerned 
on  account  of  what  you  said  this  morning;  namely,  that  no 
pecuniary  question  shall  ever  be  discussed  betwixt  you  and 
your  wife,  and  that  you  will  owe  nothing  to  her  but  happi- 
ness. This,  together  with  your  purpose  of  painting  pic- 
tures to  sell,  means,  I  take  it,  that  you  will  leave  your  wife 
absolute  mistress  of  her  present  fortune." 

"That  is  the  case  exactly,  Mr.  Hopkins,"  says  he.  "I 
am  not  indifferent  to  the  world's  esteem,  and  I  would  give 
no  one  reason  to  suspect  that  I  had  married  my  dear  cousin 
to  possess  her  fortune." 

"  Nevertheless,  sir,  you  would  not  have  it  thought  that  she 
begrudged  you  an  equal  share  of  her  possessions.  Your 
position  will  necessitate  a  certain  outlay.  To  maintain 
your  wife's  dignity  and  your  own,  you  must  dress  well, 
mount  a  good  horse,  be  liberal  in  hospitality,  give  largely 
to  those  in  need,  and  so  forth.  With  all  due  respect  to 
your  genius  in  painting,  I  can  scarcely  think  that  art  will 
furnish  you  at  once  with  supplies  necessary  to  meet  all 
these  demands." 

"All  this  is  very  true,  Mr.  Hopkins,"  says  he,  after  a  little 
reflection;  "to  tell  the  truth,  I  have  lived  so  long  in  want 
that  poverty  has  become  my  second  nature,  and  so  these 
matters  have  not  entered  into  my  calculations.  Pray,  sir, 
continue." 

"Your  wife,  be  she  never  so  considerate,  may  not  always 


2OO  A   SET    OF    ROGUES. 

anticipate  your  needs;  and  hence  at  some  future  moment 
this  question  of  supplies  must  arise  —  unless  they  are  dis- 
posed of  before  your  marriage." 

"  If  that  could  be  done,  Mr.  Hopkins,"  says  he,  hopefully. 

"It  may  be  done,  sir,  very  easily.  With  your  cousin's 
consent  and  yours,  I,  as  her  elected  guardian,  at  this  time 
will  have  a  deed  drawn  up  to  be  signed  by  you  and  her, 
settling  one-half  the  estate  upon  you,  and  the  other  on  your 
cousin.  This  will  make  you  not  her  debtor,  but  her  bene- 
factor; for  without  this  deed,  all  that  is  now  hers  becomes 
yours  by  legal  right  upon  your  marriage,  and  she  could  not 
justly  give  away  a  shilling  without  your  permission.  And 
thus  you  assure  to  her  the  same  independence  that  you 
yourself  would  maintain." 

"Very  good,"  says  Don  Sanchez,  in  a  sonorous  voice  of 
approval,  as  he  lies  back  in  his  high  chair,  his  eyes  closed, 
and  a  cigarro  in  the  corner  of  his  mouth. 

"I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart,  Mr.  Hopkins,"  says  Mr. 
Godwin,  warmly.  "  I  entreat  you  have  this  deed  drawn  up 
—  if  it  be  my  wife's  wish." 

"  You  may  count  with  certainty  on  that,"  says  I ;  "  for  if  my 
arguments  lacked  power,  I  have  but  to  say  'tis  your  desire, 
and  'twould  be  done  though  it  took  the  last  penny  from  her." 

He  made  no  reply  to  this,  but  bending  forward  he  gazed 
into  the  fire,  with  a  rapture  in  his  face,  pressing  one  hand 
within  the  other  as  if  it  were  his  sweetheart's. 

"In  the  meantime,"  says  I,  "if  you  have  necessity  for  a 
hundred  or  two  in  advance,  you  have  but  to  give  me  your 
note  of  hand." 

"Can  you  do  me  this  service?"  cries  he,  eagerly. 
"Can  you  let  me  have  five  hundred  by  to-morrow?" 


MR.    GODWIN    PERSUADED    AS    WE    DESIRE.         2OI 

"I  believe  I  can  supply  you  to  the  extent  of  six  or 
seven." 

"All  that  you  can,"  says  he;  "for  besides  a  pressing  need 
that  will  take  me  to  London  to-morrow,  I  owe  something 
to  a  friend  here  that  I  would  fain  discharge." 

Don  Sanchez  waived  his  hand  cavalierly,  though  I  do 
believe  the  subtle  Spaniard  had  hinted  at  this  business  as 
much  for  his  own  ends  as  for  our  assurance. 

"I  will  have  it  ready  against  we  meet  in  the  morning," 
says  I. 

"You  are  so  certain  of  her  sanction?"  he   asks  in  de- 

« 

light,  as  if  he  could  not  too  much  assure  himself  of  Moll's 
devotion. 

"She  has  been  guided  by  me  in  all  matters  relating  to 
her  estate,  and  will  be  in  this,  I  am  convinced.  But  here's 
another  question,  sir,  which,  while  we  are  about  business, 
might  be  discussed  with  advantage.  My  rule  here  is  nearly 
at  an  end.  Have  you  decided  who  shall  govern  the  estate 
when  I  am  gone?  " 

"  Only  that  when  I  have  authority  that  rascal  Simon  shall 
be  turned  from  his  office,  neck  and  crop.  He  loves  me  as 
little  as  he  loves  his  mistress,  that  he  would  set  us  by  the 
ears  for  his  own  advantage." 

"An  honest  man,  nevertheless  —  in  his  peculiar  way," 
observes  the  Don. 

"Honest!"  cries  Mr.  Godwin,  hotly.  "He  honest  who 
would  have  suffered  Judith  to  die  in  Barbary !  He  shall  go." 

"  Then  you  will  take  in  your  own  hands  the  control  of 
your  joint  estate?" 

"  I  ?  Why,  I  know  no  more  of  such  matters  than  the  man 
in  the  moon." 


2O2  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"With  all  respect  to  your  cousin's  abilities,  I  cannot 
think  her  qualified  for  this  office." 

"Surely  another  steward  can  be  found." 

"Undoubtedly,"  says  I.  "But  surely,  sir,  you'd  not  trust 
all  to  him  without  some  supervision.  Large  sums  of 
money  must  pass  through  his  hands,  and  this  must  prove 
a  great  temptation  to  dishonest  practices.  'Twould  not 
be  fair  to  any  man." 

"This  is  true,"  says  he.  "And  yet  from  natural  disincli- 
nation, ignorance,  and  other  reasons,  I  would  keep  out  of 
it."  Then  after  some  reflection  he  adds,  "My  cousin  has 
told  me  how  you  have  lost  all  your  fortune  in  saving  her, 
and  that  'tis  not  yet  possible  to  repay  you.  May  I  ask, 
sir,  without  offence,  if  you  have  any  occupation  for  your 
time  when  you  leave  us?  " 

"  I  went  to  London  when  I  left  you  to  see  what  might  be 
done;  but  a  merchant  without  money  is  like  a  carpenter 
without  tools." 

"Then,  sir,  till  your  debt  is  discharged,  or  you  can  find 
some  more  pleasant  and  profitable  engagement,  would  you 
not  consent  to  govern  these  affairs  ?  I  do  not  ask  you  to 
stay  here,  though  assuredly  you  will  ever  be  a,  welcome 
guest;  but  if  you  would  have  one  of  the  houses  on  the 
estate  or  come  hither  from  time  to  time  as  it  might  fit  your 
other  purposes,  and  take  this  office  as  a  matter  of  business, 
I  should  regard  it  as  a  most  generous,  friendly  kindness 
on  your  part." 

I  promised  him  with  some  demur,  and  yet  with  the 
civility  his  offer  demanded,  to  consider  of  this;  and  so 
our  debate  ended,  and  I  went  to  bed,  very  well  content  with 
myself,  for  thus  will  vanity  blind  us  to  our  faults. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

/  overcome  MolVs  honest  compunctions,  lay  hold  of  three  thousand 
pounds  more,  and  do  otherwise  play  the  part  of  rascal  to  perfection. 

I  GOT  together  six  hundred  pounds  (out  of  the  sum  left 
us  after  paying  Don  Sanchez  his  ten  thousand),  and  deliv- 
ered 'em  to  Mr.  Godwin  against  his  note  of  hand,  telling 
him  at  the  same  time  that,  having  slept  upon  his  proposal, 
I  was  resolved  to  be  his  steward  for  three  months,  with 
freedom  on  both  sides  to  alter  our  position,  according  to 
our  convenience,  at  the  end  of  that  time,  and  would  serve 
him  and  his  lady  to  the  best  of  my  power.  Thanking  me 
very  heartily  for  my  friendly  service  to  him  (though,  God 
knows,  with  little  reason),  he  presently  left  us.  And  Moll, 
coming  back  from  taking  tender  leave  of  him  at  her  gates, 
appeared  very  downcast  and  pensive.  However,  after 
moping  an  hour  in  her  chamber,  she  comes  to  me  in  her 
hood,  and  begs  I  will  take  her  a  walk  to  dispel  her  va- 
pours. So  we  out  across  the  common,  it  being  a  fine, 
brisk,  dry  morning  and  the  ground  hard  with  a  frost. 
Here,  being  secure  from  observation,  I  showed  her  how  I 
had  settled  matters  with  Mr.  Godwin,  dividing  the  estate  in 
such  a  manner  as  would  enable  her  to  draw  what  funds  she 
pleased,  without  let,  hindrance,  or  any  inconvenient  question. 

At  this  she  draws  a  deep  sigh,  fixing  her  eyes  sadly 
enough  on  the  perspective,  as  if  she  were  thinking  rather 
of  her  absent  lover  than  the  business  in  hand.  Somewhat 

203 


2O4  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

nettled  to  find  she  prized  my  efforts  on  her  behalf  so  lightly, 
I  proceeded  to  show  her  the  advantages  of  this  arrange- 
ment, adding  that,  to  make  her  property  the  surer,  I  had 
consented  to  manage  both  her  affairs  and  Mr.  Godwin's 
when  they  were  married. 

"And  so,"  says  I,  in  conclusion,  "you  may  have  what 
money  you  want,  and  dispose  of  it  as  you  will,  .and  I'll 
answer  for  it  Mr.  Godwin  shall  never  be  a  penny  the  wiser." 

"Do  what  you  find  is  necessary,"  says  she,  with  passion. 
"But  for  mercy's  sake  say  no  more  on  this  matter  to  me. 
For  all  these  hints  do  stab  my  heart  like  sharp  knives." 

Not  reading  rightly  the  cause  of  her  petulance,  I  was  at 
first  disposed  to  resent  it;  but,  reflecting  that  a  maiden  is 
no  more  responsible  for  her  tongue  than  a  donkey  for  his 
heels  in  this  season  of  life  (but  both  must  be  for  ever  a-fly- 
ing  out  at  some  one  when  parted  from  the  object  of  their 
affections),  I  held  my  peace;  and  so  we  walked  on  in  sullen 
silence  for  a  space;  then,  turning  suddenly  upon  me,  she 
cries  in  a  trembling  voice : 

"Won't  you  say  something  to  me?  Can't  you  see  that  I 
am  unhappy? " 

And  now,  seeing  her  eyes  full  of  tears,  her  lips  quiver- 
ing, and  her  face  drawn  with  pain,  my  heart  melted  in  a 
moment;  so,  taking  her  arm  under  mine  and  pressing  it  to 
my  side,  I  bade  her  be  of  good  cheer,  for  her  lover  would 
return  in  a  clay  or  two  at  the  outside. 

"No,  not  of  him, —  not  of  him,"  she  entreats.  "Talk 
to  me  of  indifferent  things." 

So,  thinking  to  turn  her  thoughts  to  another  furrow,  I 
told  her  how  I  had  been  to  visit  her  father  at  Green- 
wich. 


MOLL,    THE    WAYWARDNESS    OF    HER    PASSION.       2O5 

"My  father,"  says  she,  stopping  short.  "Oh,  what  a 
heartless,  selfish  creature  am  I !  I  have  not  thought  of  him 
in  my  happiness.  Nay,  had  he  been  dead  I  could  not 
have  forgot  him  more.  You  saw  him  —  is  he  well?  " 

"  As  hearty  as  you  could  wish,  and  full  of  love  for  you, 
and  rejoiced  beyond  measure  to  know  you  are  to  marry  a 
brave,  honest  gentleman."  Then  I  told  how  we  had  drunk 
to  their  health,  and  how  her  father  had  smashed  his  mug 
for  a  fancy.  And  this  bringing  a  smile  to  her  cheek,  I 
went  on  to  tell  how  he  craved  to  see  Mr.  Godwin  and  grip 
his  hand. 

"Oh,  if  he  could  see  what  a  noble,  handsome  man  my 
Richard  is! "  cries  she.  "I  do  think  my  heart  would  ache 
for  pride." 

"Why,  so  it  shall,"  says  I,  "for  your  father  does  intend 
to  come  hither  before  long." 

"  He  is  coming  to  see  my  dear  husband !  "  says  she,  her 
face  aglow  with  joy. 

"  Aye,  but  he  does  promise  to  be  most  circumspect,  and 
appear  as  if,  returning  from  a  voyage,  he  had  come  but  to 
see  how  you  fare,  and  will  stay  no  longer  than  is  reason- 
ably civil." 

"Only  that,"  says  she,  her  countenance  falling  again, 
"we  are  to  hide  our  love,  pretend  indifference,  behave 
towards  this  dear  father  as  if  he  were  nought  to  me  but  a 
friend." 

"My  dear,"  says  I,  "'tis  no  new  part  you  have  to  play." 

"I  know  it,"  she  answers  hotly,  "but  that  makes  it  only 
the  worse." 

"Well,  what  would  you?" 

"Anything"  (with  passion).     "I  would  do  anything  but 


2O6  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

cheat  and  cozen  the  man  I  love."  Then,  after  some 
moments'  silence  o'  both  sides,  "Oh,  if  I  were  really 
Judith  Godwin! " 

"If  you  were  she,  you'd  be  in  Barbary  now,  and  have 
neither  father  nor  lover;  is  that  what  you  want?"  says  I, 
with  some  impatience. 

"Bear  with  me,"  says  she,  with  a  humility  as  strange  in 
her  as  these  new-born  scruples  of  conscience. 

"You  may  be  sure  of  this,  my  dear,"  says  I,  in  a  gentler 
tone,  "  if  you  were  anything  but  what  you  are,  Mr.  Godwin 
would  not  marry  you." 

"Why,  then,  not  tell  him  what  I  am?  "  asks  she,  boldly. 

"That  means  that  you  would  be  to-morrow  what  you're 
not  to-day." 

"  If  he  told  me  he  had  done  wrong,  I  could  forgive  him, 
and  love  him  none  the  less." 

"  Your  conditions  are  not  the  same.  He  is  a  gentleman 
by  birth,  you  but  a  player's  daughter.  Come,  child,  be 
reasonable.  Ponder  this  matter  but  a  moment  justly,  and 
you  shall  see  that  you  have  all  to  lose  and  nought  to  gain 
by  yielding  to  this  idle  fancy.  Is  he  lacking  in  affection, 
that  you  would  seek  to  stimulate  his  love  by  this  hazardous 
experiment?" 

"Oh,  no,  no,  no!"  cries  she. 

"Would  he  be  happier  knowing  all?"  (She  shakes  her 
head.)  "Happier  if  you  force  him  to  give  you  up  and 
seek  another  wife?  "  (She  starts  as  if  flicked  with  a  whip.) 
"Would  you  be  happier  stripped  of  your  possessions,  cast 
out  of  your  house,  and  forced  to  fly  from  justice  with  your 
father?"  (She  looks  at  me  in  pale  terror.)  "Why,  then, 
there's  nothing  to  be  won,  and  what's  to  lose?  the  love 


ALL    MOLL'S    SCRUPLES    CAST   ADRIFT.  2O/ 

of  a  noble,  honest  gentleman,  the  joy  of  raising  him  from 
penury." 

"Oh,  say  no  more,"  cries  she,  in  passion.  "I  know  not 
what  madness  possessed  me  to  overlook  such  consequences. 
I  kiss  you  for  bringing  me  to  my  senses  "  (with  that  she 
catches  up  my  hand  and  presses  her  lips  to  it  again  and 
again).  "Look  in  my  face,"  cries  she,  "and  if  you  find 
a  lurking  vestige  of  irresolution  there,  I'll  tear  it  out." 

Indeed,  I  could  see  nothing  but  set  determination  in  her 
countenance, —  a  most  hard  expression  of  fixed  resolve,  that 
seemed  to  age  her  by  ten  years,  astonishing  me  not  less 
than  those  other  phases  in  her  rapidly  developing  character. 

"Now,"  says  she,  quickly,  and  with  not  a  note  of  her 
repining  tone,  "what  was  that  you  spoke  of  lately, —  you 
are  to  be  our  steward?  " 

"Yes,"  says  I,  "for  Mr.  Godwin  has  declared  most  firmly 
that  the  moment  he  has  authority  he  will  cast  Simon  out 
for  his  disloyalty." 

"I  will  not  leave  that  ungrateful  duty  to  him,"  says  she. 
"Take  me  to  this  wretch  at  once,  and  choose  the  shortest 
path." 

I  led  her  back  across  the  common,  and  coming  to 
Simon's  lodge,  she  herself  knocked  loudly  at  the  door. 

Seeing  who  it  was  through  his  little  grating,  Simon 
quickly  opens  the  door,  and  with  fawning  humility  entreats 
her  to  step  into  his  poor  room,  and  there  he  stands,  cring- 
ing and  mopping  his  eyes,  in  dreadful  apprehension,  as 
having  doubtless  gathered  from  some  about  the  house  how 
matters  stood  betwixt  Moll  and  Mr.  Godwin. 

"Where  are  your  keys?  "  demands  Moll,  in  a  very  hard, 
merciless  voice. 


2O8  A   SET   OF    ROGUES. 

Perceiving  how  the  land  lay,  and  finding  himself  thus 
beset,  old  Simon  falls  to  his  usual  artifices,  turning  this  way 
and  that,  like  a  rat  in  a  pit,  to  find  some  hole  for  escape. 
First  he  feigns  to  misunderstand,  then,  clapping  his  hands 
in  his  pockets,  he  knows  not  where  he  can  have  laid  them; 
after  that  fancies  he  must  have  given  them  to  his  man. 
Peter,  who  is  gone  out  of  an  errand,  etc. ;  until  Moll, 
losing  patience,  cut  him  short  by  declaring  the  loss  of  the 
keys  unimportant,  as  doubtless  a  locksmith  could  be  found 
to  open  his  boxes  and  drawers  without  'em. 

"My  chief  requirement  is,"  adds  she,  "that  you  leave 
this  house  forthwith,  and  return  no  more." 

Upon  this,  finding  further  evasion  impossible,  the  old 
man  turns  to  bay,  and  asks  upon  what  grounds  she  would 
dismiss  him  without  writ  or  warrant. 

"Tis  sufficient,"  returns  she,  "that  this  house  is  mine, 
and  that  I  will  not  have  you  a  day  longer  for  my  tenant  or 
my  servant.  If  you  dispute  my  claim,  —  as  I  am  told  you 
do,  —  you  may  take  what  lawful  means  you  please  to  dis- 
possess me  of  my  estate,  and  at  the  same  time  redress  what 
wrong  is  done  you." 

Seeing  his  secret  treachery  discovered,  Simon  falls  now  to 
his  whining  arts,  telling  once  more  of  his  constant  toil  to 
enrich  her,  his  thrift  and  self-denial ;  nay,  he  even  carries  it 
so  far  as  to  show  that  he  did  but  incite  Mr.  Godwin  to  dis- 
pute her  title  to  the  estate,  that  thereby  her  claim  should  be 
justified  before  the  law  to  the  obtaining  of  her  succession 
without  further  delay,  and  at  the  expense  of  her  cousin, 
which  did  surpass  anything  I  had  ever  heard  of  for  artful- 
ness. But  this  only  incensed  Moll  the  more. 

"  What !  "  cries  she,  "  you  would  make  bad  blood  between 


SIMON    APPEALS   TO    HEAVEN    FOR  JUSTICE.        209 

two  cousins,  to  the  ruin  and  disgrace  of  one,  merely  to  save 
the  expense  of  some  beggarly  fees  !  I'll  hear  no  more.  Go 
at  once,  or  I  will  send  for  my  servants  to  carry  you  out  by 
force." 

He  stood  some  moments  in  deliberation,  and  then  he 
says,  with  a  certain  dignity  unusual  to  him,  "  I  will  go." 
Then  he  casts  his  eye  slowly  round  the  room,  with  a  linger- 
ing regard  for  his  piles  of  documents  and  precious  boxes  of 
title  deeds,  as  if  he  were  bidding  a  last  farewell  to  all  that 
was  dear  to  him  on  earth,  and  grotesque  as  his  appearance 
might  be,  there  was  yet  something  pathetic  in  it.  But  even 
at  this  moment  his  ruling  passion  prevailed. 

"There  is  no  need,"  says  he,  "to  burst  these  goodly 
locks  by  force.  I  do  bethink  me  the  keys  are  here  "  (open- 
ing a  drawer,  and  laying  them  upon  the  table).  Then 
dropping  his  head,  he  goes  slowly  to  the  door,  but  there  he 
turns,  lifting  his  head  and  fixing  his  rheumy  eyes  on  Moll. 
"  I  will  take  nothing  from  this  house,  not  even  the  chattels 
that  belong  to  me,  bought  from  the  mean  wage  I  have 
allowed  myself.  So  shalt  thou  judge  of  my  honesty.  They 
shall  stand  here  till  I  return,  for  that  I  shall  return  I  am  as 
fully  persuaded  as  that  a  just  God  doth  dispose  of  his 
creatures.  Thee  hast  might  on  thy  side,  woman,  but 
whether  thee  hast  right  as  well,  shall  yet  be  proven  —  not 
by  the  laws  of  man,  which  are  an  invention  of  the  devil  to 
fatten  rogues  upon  the  substance  of  fools,  but  by  the  law  of 
Heaven,  to  which  I  do  appeal  with  all  my  soul  "  (lifting 
high  his  shaking  hands).  "Morning  and  night  I  will  pray 
that  God  shall  smite  with  heavy  hand  which  of  us  two  hath 
most  wronged  the  other.  Offer  the  same  prayer  if  thee 
darest." 

p 


2IO  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

I  do  confess  that  this  parting  shot  went  home  to  my  con- 
science, and  troubled  my  mind  considerably ;  for  feeling  that 
he  was  in  the  right  of  it  as  regarded  our  relative  honesty,  I 
was  constrained  to  think  that  his  prophecy  might  come  true 
also  to  our  shame  and  undoing.  But  Moll  was  afflicted  with 
no  such  qualms,  her  spirit  being  very  combative  and  high, 
and  her  conscience  (such  as  it  was)  being  hardened  by  our 
late  discussion  to  resist  sharper  slaps  than  this.  Nay,  main- 
taining that  Simon  must  be  dishonest  by  the  proof  we  had 
of  his  hypocrisy  and  double  dealing,  she  would  have  me 
enter  upon  my  office  at  once  by  sending  letters  to  all  her 
tenants,  warning  them  to  pay  no  rent  to  any  one  lately  in 
her  service,  but  only  to  me ;  and  these  letters  (which  kept 
my  pen  going  all  that  afternoon)  she  signed  with  the  name 
of  Judith  Godwin,  which  seemed  to  me  a  very  bold,  danger- 
ous piece  of  business  ;  but  she  would  have  it  so,  and  did  her 
signature  with  a  strong  hand  and  a  flourish  of  loops  beneath 
like  any  queen. 

Nor  was  this  all ;  for  the  next  morning  she  would  have  me 
go  to  that  Mr.  Goodman,  who  had  offered  to  buy  her  farm 
for  ready  money,  and  get  what  I  could  from  him,  seeing 
that  she  must  furnish  herself  with  fresh  gowns  and  make  other 
outlay  for  her  coming  marriage.  So  to  him  I  go,  and  after 
much  haggling  (having  learnt  from  Simon  that  the  land  was 
worth  more  than  he  offered  for  it),  I  brought  him  to  give 
six  thousand  pounds  instead  of  five,  and  this  was  clearly 
better  business  on  his  side  than  on  mine  at  that,  for  that 
the  bargain  might  not  slip  from  his  hands  he  would  have  me 
take  three  thousand  pounds  down  as  a  handsell,  leaving  the 
rest  to  be  paid  when  the  deed  of  transference  was  drawn  up. 

And  now  as  I  jogged  home  with  all  this  gold  chinking  in 


AM    CONVINCED    OF    MY    ROGUERY.  211 

my  pockets,  I  did  feel  that  I  had  thrust  my  head  fairly  into 
a  halter,  and  no  chance  left  of  drawing  it  out.  Look  at  it 
how  I  might,  this  business  wore  a  most  curst  aspect,  to  be 
sure ;  nor  could  I  regard  myself  as  anything  but  a  thorough- 
paced rogue. 

"  For,"  thinks  I,  "  if  old  Simon's  prayer  be  answered, 
what  will  become  of  this  poor  Mr.  Goodman?  His  title 
deeds  will  be  wrested  from  him,  for  they  are  but  stolen 
goods  he  is  paying  for,  and  thus  an  innocent,  honest  man 
will  be  utterly  ruined.  And  for  doing  this  villany  I  may 
count  myself  lucky  if  my  heels  save  my  neck." 

With  this  weight  on  my  mind,  I  resolved  to  be  very 
watchful  and  careful  of  my  safety,  and  before  I  fell  asleep 
that  night  I  had  devised  a  dozen  schemes  for  making  good 
my  escape  as  soon  as  I  perceived  danger ;  nevertheless,  I 
could  dream  of  nothing  but  prisons,  scourgings,  etc.,  and  in 
every  vision  I  perceived  old  Simon  in  his  leather  skull-cap 
sitting  on  the  top  of  Tyburn  tree,  with  his  handkercher 
a-hanging  down  ready  to  strangle  me. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A  table  of  various   accidents, 

As  your  guide,  showing  you  an  exhibition  of  paintings, 
will  linger  over  the  first  room,  and  then  pass  the  second  in 
hurried  review  to  come  the  quicker  to  a  third  of  greater 
interest,  so  I,  having  dwelt,  may  be,  at  undue  length  upon 
some  secondary  passages  in  this  history,  must  economise  my 
space  by  touching  lightly  on  the  events  that  came  immediately 
before  Moll's  marriage,  and  so  get  to  those  more  moving  ac- 
cidents which  followed.  Here,  therefore,  will  I  transcribe 
certain  notes  (forming  a  brief  chronicle)  from  that  secret 
journal  which,  for  the  clearer  understanding  of  my  position, 
I  began  to  keep  the  day  I  took  possession  of  Simon's  lodge 
and  entered  upon  my  new  office. 

December  8.  Very  busy  all  this  forenoon  setting  my  new 
house  in  order,  conveying,  with  the  help  of  the  gardener, 
all  those  domestic  and  personal  goods  that  belong  to  Simon 
into  the  attick ;  but  Lord  !  so  few  these  things,  and  they  so 
patched  and  worn,  that  altogether  they  are  not  worth  ten 
shillings  of  anybody's  money.  I  find  the  house  wondrous 
neat  and  clean  in  every  part,  but  so  comfortless  and  prison- 
like,  that  I  look  forward  with  little  relish  to  living  here  when 
the  time  comes  for  me  to  leave  the  Court.  After  this  to 
examining  books,  papers,  etc.,  and  the  more  closely  I  look 
into  these,  the  more  assured  I  am  that  never  was  any  servant 


THE    DON    GREATLY    MISDOUBTS    OUR   WISDOM.       213 

more  scrupulous,  exact,  and  honest  in  his  master's  service 
than  this  old  steward,  which  puts  me  to  the  hope  that  I  may 
be  only  half  as  faithful  to  my  trust  as  he,  but  I  do  fear  I 
shall  not. 

Conversing  privily  with  Don  Sanchez  after  dinner,  he  gave 
me  his  opinion  that  we  had  done  a  very  unwise  thing  in  turn- 
ing out  old  Simon,  showing  how  by  a  little  skill  I  might  have 
persuaded  Moll  to  leave  this  business  to  Mr.  Godwin  as 
the  proper  ruler  of  her  estate ;  how  by  such  delay  Mr. 
Godwin's  resentment  would  have  abated  and  he  willing  to 
listen  to  good  argument  in  the  steward's  favour ;  how  then  we 
should  have  made  Simon  more  eager  than  ever  to  serve  us 
in  order  to  condone  his  late  offence,  and  how  by  abusing 
our  opportunities  we  had  changed  this  useful  servant  to  a 
dangerous  enemy  whose  sole  endeavour  must  be  to  undo 
us  and  recover  his  former  position,  etc.  ...  "  Why,  what 
have  we  to  fear  of  this  miserable  old  man?"  says  I.  "Un- 
less he  fetch  Mrs.  Godwin  from  Barbary,  he  cannot  disprove 
Moll's  right  to  the  estate,  and  what  else  can  he  do  ?  " 

"  There's  the  mischief  of  it,"  answers  he.  "  Tis  because 
you  know  not  how  he  may  attack  you  that  you  have  no 
means  of  defending  yourself.  'Tis  ever  the  unseen  trifle 
in  our  path  which  trips  us  up."  And  dismissing  this  part 
of  the  subject  with  a  hunch  of  his  shoulders,  he  advises 
me  seriously  to  sell  as  many  more  farms  as  I  may  for 
ready  money,  and  keep  it  in  some  secret  convenient  cor- 
ner where  I  may  lay  hands  on  it  at  a  moment's  warning. 

This  discourse  coming  atop  of  a  night's  ill  rest,  depressed 
my  mind  to  such  a  degree  that  I  could  take  no  interest  in 
my  work,  but  sat  there  in  my  naked  room  with  my  accounts 
before  me,  and  no  spirit  to  cast  'em  up.  Nor  was  I  much 


214  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

happier  when  I  gave  up  work  and  returned  to  the  Court.  For, 
besides  having  to  wait  an  hour  later  than  usual  for  dinner, 
Moll's  treatment  of  me  was  none  of  the  best,  —  she  being 
particularly  perverse  and  contrary,  for  having  dressed 
herself  in  her  best  in  expectation  of  her  lover's  return,  and 
he  not  coming  when  at  last  she  permitted  supper  to  be 
dished.  We  were  scarcely  seated,  however,  when  she 
springs  up  with  a  cry  of  joy  and  runs  from  the  room,  crying 
she  hears  her  Richard's  step,  which  was  indeed  true,  though 
we  had  heard  nothing  more  pleasant  than  the  rattle  of  our 
plates.  Presently  they  come  in,  all  radiant  with  happiness, 
hand  in  hand,  and  thenceforth  nought  but  sweetness  and 
mirth  on  the  part  of  Mistress  Moll,  who  before  had  been  all 
frown  and  pout.  At  supper  Mr.  Godwin  tells  us  how  his 
sweetheart  hath  certainly  dispelled  the  clouds  that  have 
hung  so  long  over  him,  he  having  heard  in  London  that 
Sir  Peter  Lely,  on  seeing  one  of  his  pieces,  desires  to  see 
him  at  Hatfield  (where  he  is  painting)  on  good  business, 
and  to  Hatfield  he  will  go  to  discharge  this  matter  before 
his  marriage ;  which  joyeth  Moll  less  than  me,  I  being 
pleased  to  see  he  is  still  of  the  same,  stout  disposition  to 
•  live  an  active  life.  In  the  evening  he  gives  Moll  a  very 
beautiful  ring  for  a  troth  token,  which  transports  her  with 
joy,  so  that  she  cannot  enough  caress  her  lover  or  this  toy, 
but  falls  first  to  kissing  one  and  then  t'other  in  a  rapture. 
In  return,  she  gives  him  a  ring  from  her  finger.  "  Tis  too 
small  for  my  finger,  love,"  says  he ;  "  but  I  will  wear  it 
against  my  heart  as  long  as  it  beats."  After  that  he  finds 
another  case  and  puts  it  in  Moll's  hand,  and  she,  opening  it, 
fetches  her  breath  quickly  and  can  say  nothing  for  amaze- 
ment ;  then,  turning  it  in  the  light,  she  regards  it  with  wink- 


CHIEFLY    BUSINESS.  21  5 

ing  eyes,  as  if  dazzled  by  some  fierce  brilliancy.  And  so 
closing  the  case  as  if  it  were  too  much  for  her,  she  lays  her 
face  upon  Mr.  Godwin's  breast,  he  having  his  arm  about 
her,  murmuring  some  inarticulate  words  of  passionate  love. 
Recovering  her  energies  presently,  she  starts  up,  and  putting 
the  case  in  her  lover's  hand,  she  bids  him  put  on  his  gift, 
therewith  pulling  down  her  kerchief  to  expose  her  beautiful 
bare^eck,  whereupon  he  draws  from  the  box  a  diamond 
collar  and  clasps  it  about  her  throat  with  a  pretty  speech. 
And  truly  this  was  a  gift  worthy  of  a  princess,  the  most 
beautiful  bauble  I  have  ever  seen,  and  must  have  cost  him 
all  he  had  of  me  to  the  last  shilling. 

December  10.  Finding  amongst  Simon's  quittances  a  bill 
for  law  expenses  of  one  John  Pearson,  attorney,  at  Maid- 
stone,  I  concluded  this  must  be  the  most  trustworthy  man 
of  his  kind  in  the  country ;  and  so  set  forth  early  this  morn- 
ing to  seek  him,  —  a  tedious,  long  journey,  and  the  roads 
exceedingly  foul.  By  good  luck  I  found  Mr.  Pearson  at 
home,  —  a  very  civil,  shrewd  man,  as  I  think.  Having  laid 
my  business  before  him,  he  tells  me  there  will  be  no  diffi- 
culty in  dividing  the  estate  according  to  the  wish  of  Mr. 
Godwin  and  Moll,  which  may  be  done  by  a  simple  deed  of 
agreement ;  and  this  he  promises  to  draw  up,  and  send  to 
us  for  signature  in  a  couple  of  days.  But  to  get  the  seal  to 
Moll's  succession  will  not  be  such  an  easy  matter,  and,  unless 
we  are  willing  to  give  seven  or  eight  hundred  pounds  in 
fees,  we  may  be  kept  waiting  a  year,  with  the  chance  of 
being  put  to  greater  expense  to  prove  our  right ;  for  he  tells 
me  the  court  and  all  about  it  are  so  corrupt  that  no  minis- 
ter is  valued  if  he  do  not,  by  straight  or  crooked  ways,  draw 
money  into  the  treasury,  and  that  they  will  rather  impede 


2l6  A   SET    OF    ROGUES. 

than  aid  the  course  of  justice  if  it  be  to  the  king's  interest, 
and  that  none  will  stir  a  hand  to  the  advantage  of  any  one 
but  the  king,  unless  it  be  secretly  to  his  own,  etc.  And, 
though  he  will  say  nothing  against  Simon,  save  (by  way  of 
hint)  that  all  men  must  be  counted  honest  till  they  are 
proved  guilty,  yet  he  do  apprehend  he  will  do  all  in  his 
power  to  obstruct  the  granting  of  this  seal,  which  it  is  only 
reasonable  to  suppose  he  will.  So,  to  close  this  discussion, 
I  agree  he  shall  spend  as  much  as  one  thousand  pounds 
in  bribery,  and  he  thinks  we  may  certainly  look  to  have  it 
in  a  month  at  that  price.  Home  late,  and  very  sore. 

December  n.  Much  astonished  this  morning  on  going 
to  my  house  to  find  all  changed  within  as  if  by  inchantment 
—  fine  hangings  to  my  windows,  handsome  furniture  in  every 
room,  all  arranged  in  due  order  (with  a  pair  of  pictures  in  my 
parlour),  the  linen  press  stocked  with  all  that  is  needful  and 
more,  and  even  the  cellar  well  garnished  with  wines,  etc. 
And  truly  thus  embellished  my  house  looks  no  longer  like  a 
prison,  but  as  cheerful  and  pleasant  a  dwelling-place  as  the 
heart  of  man  could  desire  (in  moderation) ,  and  better  than 
any  I  have  yet  dreamt  of  possessing.  And  'twas  easy  to 
guess  whose  hands  had  worked  this  transformation,  even  had 
I  not  recognised  certain  pieces  of  furniture  as  coming  from 
the  Court,  for  'twas  of  a  piece  with  Moll's  loving  and  play- 
ful spirit  to  prepare  this  surprise  for  me  while  I  was  gone 
yesterday  to  Maidstone.  I  am  resolved  I  will  sleep  here 
henceforth,  —  there  being  two  bedrooms  all  properly  fur- 
nished, —  as  being  more  in  keeping  with  my  new  position. 

December  ij.  This  day  a  little  before  dinner  time  came 
Dawson  to  the  Court,  quite  sober  and  looking  as  like  a 
rough  honest  seaman  as  anything  could  be,  but  evidently  with 


DAWSON    CONDUCTS    HIMSELF   TO    A    NICETY.       21 7 

his  best  shore-going  manners  on.  And  when  Moll  very 
graciously  offers  him  her  hand,  he  whips  out  a  red  hand- 
kercher  and  lays  it  over  her  hand  before  kissing  it,  which 
was  a  piece  of  ceremony  he  must  have  observed  at  Green- 
wich, as  also  many  odd  phrases  and  sea  expressions  with 
which  he  garnished  his  conversation. 

"  Captain  Evans,"  says  Moll,  taking  her  lover's  hand, 
"  this  is  Mr.  Godwin,  my  cousin,  and  soon  to  be  my  hus- 
band." 

Mr.  Godwin  holds  forth  his  hand,  but  ere  he  would  take 
it,  Dawson  looks  him  full  in  the  face  a  good  minute  ;  then, 
taking  it  in  his  great  grimy  hand,  and  grasping  it  firmly, 
"  Master,"  says  Jack,  "  I  see  thou  art  an  honest  man,  and 
none  lives  who  hath  ever  sold  me  tar  for  pitch,  be  he  never 
so  double-faced,  and  so  I  wish  you  joy  of  your  sweet  wife. 
As  for  you,  Mistress  "  (turning  to  Moll)  "  who  have  ever  been 
kind  to  me  beyond  my  deserts,  I  do  wish  you  all  the  happi- 
ness in  the  world,  and  I  count  all  my  hardships  well  paid 
in  bringing  you  safely  to  this  anchorage.  For  sure  I  would 
sooner  you  were  still  Lala  Mollah  and  a  slave  in  Barbary 
than  the  Queen  of  Chiney  and  ill-mated ;  and  so  Lord  love 
the  both  of  you  !" 

After  staying  a  couple  of  hours  with  us,  he  was  for  going 
(but  not  before  he  had  given  us  the  instructive  history  of 
the  torment  he  had  endured,  by  telling  his  wife,  in  an  un- 
guarded moment,  of  his  gallantries  with  Sukey  Taylor),  nor 
would  he  be  persuaded  to  sleep  at  the  Court  and  leave  next 
day,  maintaining  that  whilst  he  had  never  a  penny  in  the 
world  he  could  very  honestly  accept  Moll's  hospitality, 
but  that  now  being  well-to-do,  thanks  to  her  bounty,  he 
blessed  Heaven  he  had  sufficient  good  breeding,  and 


2l8  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

valued  himself  well  enough  not  to  take  advantage  of  her 
beneficence.  However,  hearing  I  had  a  house  of  my  own, 
and  could  offer  him  a  bed,  he  willingly  agreed  to  be  my 
guest  for  the  night,  regarding  me  as  one  of  his  own  quality. 
We  stayed  to  sup  at  the  Court,  where  he  entertained  us 
with  a  lengthy  account  of  his  late  voyage,  and  how  being 
taken  in  a  tempest,  his  masts  had  all  been  swept  by  the 
board,  and  his  craft  so  damaged  that  'twas  as  much  as  she 
would  hold  together  till  he  brought  her  into  Falmouth,  where 
she  must  lie  a-repairing  a  good  two  months  ere  he  could 
again  venture  to  sea  in  her.  And  this  story  he  told  with 
such  an  abundance  of  detail  and  so  many  nautical  partic- 
ulars, that  no  one  in  the  world  could  have  dreamt  he  was 
lying. 

He  explained  to  me  later  on  that  he  had  refused  to  lie  at 
the  Court,  for  fear  a  glass  or  two  after  supper  might  lead  his 
tongue  astray,  telling  me  that  he  had  touched  nothing  but 
penny  ale  all  his  long  journey  from  London,  for  fear  of 
losing  his  head ;  and  on  my  asking  why  he  had  fabricated 
that  long  history  of  shipwreck  he  vowed  I  had  put  him  to  it 
by  saying  I  had  a  house  of  my  own  where  he  could  lie ; 
"  For,"  says  he,  "  my  ship  being  laid  up  will  furnish  me 
with  a  very  good  excuse  for  coming  to  spend  a  day  or  two 
with  you  now  and  then.  So  may  I  get  another  glimpse  of 
my  own  dear  Moll,  and  see  her  in  the  fulness  of  her  joy." 

He  could  not  sufficiently  cry  up  the  excellence  of  Mr. 
Godwin,  his  noble  bearing,  his  frank,  honest  countenance, 
his  tenderness  for  Moll,  etc.,  and  he  did  truly  shed  tears  of 
gratitude  to  think  that  now,  whatever  befell  him,  her  wel- 
fare and  happiness  were  assured;  but  this  was  when  he  had 
emptied  his  bottle  and  had  got  to  that  stage  of  emotion 


DO    COMMIT    A    GRAVE    PIECE    OF    FOLLY.          2IQ 

which  usually  preceded  boisterous  hilarity  when  he  was  in 
his  cups. 

And  whilst  I  am  speaking  of  bottles,  it  will  not  be  amiss 
to  note  here,  for  my  future  warning,  a  grave  imprudence 
of  mine,  which  I  discovered  on  leaving  the  room  to  seek 
more  wine.  On  the  flame  of  my  candle  blowing  aside,  I 
perceived  that  I  had  left  my  door  unfastened,  so  that  it 
now  stood  ajar.  And,  truly,  this  was  as  culpable  a  piece 
of  oversight  as  I  could  well  have  committed;  for  here,  had 
an  enemy,  or  even  an  idle  busybody,  been  passing,  he 
might  very  well  have  entered  the  little  passage  and  over- 
heard that  which  had  been  our  undoing  to  have  made 
known. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

How  Moll  Dawson  was  married  to  Mr.  Richard  Godwin;   brief 
account  of  attendant  circumstances. 

December  14.  Dawson  left  us  this  morning.  In  part- 
ing, Mr.  Godwin  graciously  begged  him  to  come  to  his 
wedding  feast  on  Christmas  day, —  they  having  fixed  upon 
Christmas  eve  to  be  married, —  and  Dawson  promised  he 
would;  but  he  did  assure  me  afterwards,  as  we  were  walk- 
ing along  the  road  to  meet  the  stage  waggon,  that  he  would 
certainly  feign  some  reason  for  not  coming.  "For,"  says 
he,  "I  am  not  so  foolhardy  as  to  jeopardise  my  Moll's  hap- 
piness for  the  pleasure  this  feast  would  give  me.  Nay, 
Kit,  I  do  think  'twould  break  my  heart  indeed,  if  anything 
of  my  doing  should  mar  my  Moll's  happiness."  And  I 
was  very  well  pleased  to  find  him  in  this  humour,  promising 
him  that  we  would  make  amends  for  his  abstinence  on  this 
occasion  by  cracking  many  a  bottle  to  Moll's  joy  when  we 
could  come  together  again  secretly  at  my  house.  In  the 
afternoon  Mr.  Pearson's  clerk  brought  the  deed  of  agree- 
ment for  the  settlement  of  the  estate  upon  Moll  and  Mr. 
Godwin,  which  they  signed,  and  so  that  is  finished  as  we 
would  have  it.  This  clerk  tells  me  his  master  hath  already 
gone  to  London  about  getting  the  seal.  So  all  things  look 
mighty  prosperous. 

December  77.  Fearing  to  displease  Sir  Peter  Lely  by 
longer  delay,  Mr.  Godwin  set  out  for  Hatfield  Tuesday, 

220 


GO  A-SHOPPING;   VERY  TEDIOUS.  221 

we  —  that  is,  Moll,  Don  Sanchez,  and  I  —  going  with  him 
as  far  as  the  borough,  where  Moll  had  a  thousand  things  to 
buy  against  her  wedding.  And  here  we  found  great  activ- 
ity of  commerce,  and  many  shops  filled  with  excellent  good 
goods, —  more  than  ever  there  were  before  the  great  fire 
drove  out  so  many  tradesmen  from  the  city.  Here  Moll 
spends  her  money  royally,  buying  whatever  catches  her  eye 
that  is  rich  and  beautiful,  not  only  for  her  own  personal 
adornment,  but  for  the  embellishment  of  her  house  (as 
hangings,  damasks,  toys,  etc.),  yet  always  with  a  consider- 
ation of  Mr.  Godwin's  taste,  so  that  I  think  she  would  not 
buy  a  pair  of  stockings  but  she  must  ask  herself  whether  he 
would  admire  'em.  And  the  more  she  had,  the  more 
eager  she  grew  to  have,  buying  by  candle-light,  which  was 
an  imprudence,  and  making  no  sort  of  bargain,  but  giving 
all  the  shopkeepers  asked  for  their  wares,  which,  to  be 
sure,  was  another  piece  of  recklessness.  This  business 
seemed  to  me  the  most  wearisome  in  the  world,  but  it 
served  only  to  increase  her  energies,  and  she  would  not  be 
persuaded  to  desist  until,  the  shops  closing,  she  could  lay 
out  no  more  money  that  night.  Supped  very  well  (but 
mighty  late)  at  the  Tabard  inn,  where  we  lay  all  night. 
And  the  next  morning,  Moll's  fever  still  unabated,  we  set 
out  again  a-shopping,  and  no  rest  until  we  caught  the  stage 
(and  that  by  a  miracle)  at  four;  and  so  home,  dead  beat. 

December  18.  Moll  mad  all  day  because  the  carrier  hath 
brought  but  half  her  purchases,  and  they  not  what  she 
wanted.  By  the  evening  waggon  come  three  seamstresses 
she  engaged  yesterday  morning,  and  they  are  to  stay  in  the 
house  till  all  is  finished;  but  as  yet  nothing  for  them  to  do, 
which  is  less  grievous  to  them  than  to  poor  Moll,  who,  I 


222  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

believe,  would  set  'em  working  all  night  for  fear  she  shall 
not  be  fitted  against  her  wedding. 

December  19.  Thank  God,  the  carrier  brought  all  our 
packages  this  morning,  and  they  being  all  undone  and  laid 
out,  there  is  no  sitting  down  anywhere  with  comfort,  but 
all  confusion,  and  no  regularity  anywhere,  so  I  was  content 
to  get  my  meals  in  the  kitchen  the  best  I  could.  And  here 
I  do  perceive  the  wisdom  of  Don  Sanchez,  who  did  not 
return  with  us  from  London,  and  does  intend  (he  told  me) 
to  stay  there  till  the  wedding  eve. 

December  20.  Moll,  bit  by  a  new  maggot,  tells  me  this 
morning  she  will  have  a  great  feast  on  Christmas  day,  and 
bids  me  order  matters  accordingly.  She  will  have  a  whole 
ox  roasted  before  the  house  by  midday,  and  barrels  of  strong 
ale  set  up,  that  there  may  be  meat  and  drink  for  all  who 
choose  to  take  it;  and  at  four  she  will  have  a  supper  of 
geese,  Jturkeys,  and  plum  puddings  for  all  her  tenants,  their 
wives  and  sweethearts,  with  fiddles  afterwards  for  dancing, 
etc.  Lord  knows  how  we  shall  come  out  of  this  madness; 
but  I  have  got  the  innkeeper  (a  busy,  capable  man)  to  help 
me,  and  he  does  assure  me  all  will  go  well  enough,  and  I 
pray  he  be  right. 

December  21.  Sick  with  fears  that  all  must  end  ill. 
For  the  place  is  a  very  Babel  for  tradesmen  and  work- 
people bringing  in  goods,  and  knowing  not  where  to  set 
them,  servants  hurrying  this  way  and  that,  one  charged 
with  a  dozen  geese,  another  with  silk  petticoats,  jostling 
each  other,  laughing,  quarrelling,  and  no  sort  of  progress, 
as  it  seems,  anywhere,  but  all  tumult  and  disorder. 

December  22.  Could  not  sleep  a  wink  all  last  night  for 
casting  up  accounts  of  all  this  feasting  and  finery  will  cost 


STILL    GREATLY    DISTURBED    IN    MIND.  223 

us,  and  finding  it  must  eat  up  all  that  money  we  had  of 
poor  Mr.  Goodman,  and  make  a  deep  hole  in  our  quarter's 
rents  besides,  I  fell  a  speculating  whether  our  tenants 
would  pay  me  with  the  same  punctuality  they  have  used  to 
pay  old  Simon,  with  grievous  fears  to  the  contrary.  For, 
assuredly,  Simon  hath  not  been  idle  these  past  days,  and 
will  do  us  an  ill  turn  if  he  can,  by  throwing  doubts  before 
these  same  tenants  whether  they  should  pay  or  not  before 
Moll's  succession  is  made  sure.  And  I  have  good  reason 
to  fear  they  will  not,  for  I  observed  yesterday  when  I  called 
upon  Farmer  Giles  to  invite  him  to  our  feast,  he  seemed 
very  jerky  and  ill  at  ease,  which  perplexed  me  greatly, 
until,  on  quitting,  I  perceived  through  a  door  that  stood 
ajar  old  Simon  seated  in  a  side  room.  And  'tis  but  natural 
that  if  they  find  prudent  excuse  for  withholding  their  rents 
they  will  keep  their  money  in  pocket,  which  will  pinch  us 
smartly  when  our  bills  come  to  be  paid.  Yet  I  conceived 
that  this  feast  would  incline  our  tenants  to  regard  us  kindly; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  thinks  I,  supposing  they  regard  this 
as  a  snare,  and  do  avoid  us  altogether !  Then  shall  we  be 
nipped  another  way;  for,  having  no  one  to  eat  our  feast 
but  a  few  idle  rogues,  who  would  get  beef  and  ale  for  noth- 
ing, we  shall  but  lay  ourselves  open  to  mockery,  and  get 
further  into  discredit.  Thus,  betwixt  one  fear  and  another, 
I  lay  like  a  toad  under  a  harrow,  all  night,  in  a  mortal  sweat 
and  perturbation  of  spirit. 

Nor  has  this  day  done  much  to  allay  my  apprehension. 
For  at  the  Court  all  is  still  at  sixes  and  sevens,  none  of  a 
very  cheerful  spirit,  but  all  mighty  anxious,  save  Moll,  who 
throughout  has  kept  a  high,  bold  spirit.  And  she  does  de- 
clare they  will  work  all  night,  but  everything  shall  be  in  its 


224  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

place  before  her  lover  comes  to-morrow.  And,  truly,  I 
pray  they  may,  but  do  think  they  will  not.  For  such  a 
mighty  business  as  this  should  have  been  begun  a  full  month 
back.  But  she  will  not  endure  me  in  the  house  (though 
God  knows  I  am  as  willing  as  any  to  help),  saying  that  I 
do  hinder  all,  and  damp  their  spirit  for  work  with  my 
gloomy  countenance,  which  is  no  more  than  the  truth,  I 
fear.  The  sky  very  overcast,  with  wind  in  the  south  and 
the  air  very  muggy,  mild,  and  close,  so  that  I  do  apprehend 
our  geese  will  be  all  stinking  before  they  are  eat.  And  if 
it  pour  of  rain  on  Christmas  day  how  will  the  ox  be  roast, 
and  what  sort  of  company  can  we  expect?  This  puts  me 
to  another  taking  for  dread  of  a  new  fiasco. 

December  23.  Going  to  the  Court  about  midday,  I  was 
dumbfounded  to  find  no  sign  of  the  disorder  that  pre- 
vailed there  yesterday,  but  all  swept  and  garnished,  and 
Moll  in  a  brave  new  gown  seated  at  her  fireside,  reading  a 
book  with  the  utmost  tranquillity, —  though  I  suspect  she 
did  assume  something  in  this  to  increase  my  astonishment. 
She  was  largely  diverted  by  my  amazement,  and  made  very 
light  of  her  achievement;  but  she  admitted  that  all  had 
worked  till  daybreak,  and  she  had  slept  but  two  hours  since. 
Nevertheless,  no  one  could  have  looked  fresher  and  brighter 
than  she,  so  healthy  and  vigorous  are  her  natural  parts. 
About  one  comes  Mr.  Godwin  to  cap  her  happiness  and 
give  fresh  glory  to  her  beauty.  And  sure  a  handsomer 
or  better  mated  couple  never  was,  Mr.  Godwin's  shapely 
figure  being  now  set  off  to  advantage  by  a  very  noble  cloth- 
ing, as  becoming  his  condition.  With  him  came  also  by 
the  morning  stage  Don  Sanchez,  mighty  fine  in  a  new 
head,  of  the  latest  mode,  and  a  figured  silk  coat  and  waist- 


GREAT   CHANGE    FOR   THE    BETTER.  225 

coat.  And  seeing  the  brave  show  they  made  at  table,  I 
was  much  humbled  to  think  I  had  gone  to  no  expense  in 
this  particular.  But  I  was  yet  more  mortified  when  Don 
Sanchez  presents  Moll  with  a  handsome  set  of  jewels  for  a 
wedding  gift,  to  see  that  I  had  nothing  in  the  world  to 
offer  her,  having  as  yet  taken  not  a  penny  of  her  money, 
save  for  the  use  of  others  and  my  bare  necessities.  Moll, 
however,  was  too  full  of  happiness  to  note  this  omission  on 
my  part;  she  could  think  of  no  one  now  but  her  dear  hus- 
band, and  I  counted  for  nothing. 

However,  this  little  chagrin  was  no  more  than  a  little 
cloud  on  a  summer's  day,  which  harms  no  one  and  is 
quickly  dispelled  by  generous  heat;  and  the  tender  affec- 
tion of  these  two  for  each  other  did  impart  a  glow  of  hap- 
piness to  my  heart.  'Tis  strange  to  think  how  all  things 
to-night  look  bright  and  hopeful,  which  yesterday  were 
gloomy  and  awesome.  Even  the  weather  hath  changed  to 
keep  in  harmony  with  our  condition.  A  fresh  wind  sprang 
up  from  the  north  this  morning,  and  to-night  every  star 
shines  out  sharp  and  clear  through  the  frosty  air,  promis- 
ing well  for  to-morrow  and  our  Christmas  feast.  And 
smelling  of  the  geese,  I  do  now  find  them  all  as  sweet  as 
nuts,  which  contents  me  mightily,  and  so  I  shall  go  to  bed 
this  night  blessing  God  for  all  things. 

December  24.  Now  this  blessed  day  hath  ended,  and 
Moll  is  sure  and  safely  bound  to  Mr.  Godwin  in  wedlock, 
thanks  to  Providence.  Woke  at  daybreak  and  joyed  to 
find  all  white  without  and  covered  with  rime,  sparkling 
like  diamonds  as  the  sun  rose  red  and  jolly  above  the  firs; 
and  so  I  thought  our  dear  Moll's  life  must  sparkle  as  she 
looked  out  on  this,  which  is  like  to  be  the  brightest,  happi- 
Q 


226  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

est  day  of  her  life.  Dressed  in  my  best  with  great  care, 
and  put  on  the  favour  of  white  ribbons  given  me  by  Moll's 
woman  last  night,  and  so  very  well  pleased  with  my  looks, 
to  the  Court,  where  Moll  is  still  a-dressing,  but  Mr.  Godwin 
and  Don  Sanchez,  nobly  arrayed,  conversing  before  the 
fire.  And  here  a  great  bowpot  on  the  table  (which  Mr. 
Godwin  had  made  to  come  from  London  this  morning)  of 
the  most  wondrous  flowers  I  have  ever  seen  at  this  time  of 
the  year,  so  that  I  could  not  believe  them  real  at  first,  but 
they  are  indeed  living;  and  Mr.  Godwin  tells  me  they  are 
raised  in  houses  of  glass  very  artificially  heated.  Presently 
comes  in  Moll  with  her  maids,  she  looking  like  any  pearl, 
in  a  shining  gown  of  white  satin  decked  with  rich  lace,  the 
collar  of  diamonds  glittering  about  her  white  throat,  her 
face  suffused  with  happy  blushes  and  past  everything  for 
sprightly  beauty.  Mr.  Godwin  offers  his  bowpot  and  takes 
her  into  his  arms,  and  there  for  a  moment  she  lay  with 
closed  eyes  and  a  pallor  spreading  over  her  cheek  as  if  this 
joy  were  more  than  her  heart  could  bear;  but  recovering 
quickly,  she  was  again  all  lively  smiles  and  radiance. 

Then  comes  a  letter,  brought  by  the  night  carrier,  from 
her  father  (a  most  dirty,  ill-written  scrawl  signed  Robert 
Evans  with  his  mark),  praying  he  may  be  excused,  as  his 
masts  are  to  be  stepped  o'  Wednesday,  and  he  must  take 
the  occasion  of  a  ketch  leaving  Dartford  for  Falmouth  this 
day,  and  at  the  same  time  begging  her  acceptance  of  a 
canister  of  China  tea  (which  is,  I  learn,  become  a  fashion- 
able dish  in  London)  as  a  marriage  offering.  Soon  after 
this  a  maid  runs  in  to  say  the  church  bells  are  a-ringing;  so 
out  we  go  into  the  crisp,  fresh  air,  with  not  a  damp  place 
to  soil  Moll's  pretty  shoes  —  she  and  Mr.  Godwin  first,  her 


MOLL    IS    WEDDED    SAFELY.  22/ 

maids  next,  carrying  her  train,  and  the  Don  and  I  closing 
the  procession,  very  stately.  In  the  churchyard  stand  two 
rows  of  village  maids  with  baskets  to  strew  rosemary  and 
sweet  herbs  in  our  path,  and  within  the  church  a  brave 
show  of  gentlefolks,  friends  and  neighbours,  to  honour  the 
wedding. 

But  here  was  I  put  to  a  most  horrid  quaking  the  moment 
I  passed  the  door,  to  perceive  old  Simon  standing  fore- 
most in  the  throng  about  the  altar,  in  his  leather  cap 
(which  he  would  not  remove  for  clerk  or  sexton,  but 
threatened  them,  as  I  am  told,  with  the  law  if  they  lay  a 
ringer  on  him).  And  seeing  him  there,  I  must  needs  con- 
clude that  he  intended  to  do  us  an  ill  turn,  for  his  face 
wore  the  most  wicked,  cruel,  malicious  look  that  ever  thirst 
of  vengeance  could  impart.  Indeed,  I  expected  nothing 
less  than  that  he  would  forbid  the  marriage  on  such 
grounds  as  we  had  too  good  reason  to  fear;  and  with  this 
dread  I  regarded  Moll,  who  also  could  not  fail  to  see  him. 
Her  face  whitened  as  she  looked  at  him,  but  her  step  never 
faltered,  and  this  peril  seemed  but  to  fortify  her  courage 
and  resolution;  and  indeed  I  do  think  by  her  high  bearing 
and  the  defiance  in  her  eye  as  she  held  her  lover's  arm 
that  she  was  fully  prepared  to  make  good  answer  if  he  chal- 
lenged her  right  to  marry  Mr.  Godwin.  But  (the  Lord  be 
thanked ! )  he  did  not  put  her  to  this  trial,  only  he  stood 
there  like  a  thing  of  evil  omen  to  mar  the  joy  of  this  day 
with  fearful  foreboding. 

I  can  say  nothing  about  the  ceremony,  for  all  my  atten- 
tion was  fixed  upon  this  hideous  Simon,  and  I  had  no 
relief  until  'twas  safely  ended  and  Moll's  friends  pressed 
forward  to  kiss  the  bride  and  offer  their  good  wishes;  nor 


228  A    SET   OF    ROGUES. 

did  I  feel  really  at  ease  until  we  were  back  again  at  the 
Court,  and  seated  to  a  fine  dinner,  with  all  the  friends  who 
would  join  us,  whereof  there  were  as  many  as  could  sit 
comfortably  to  the  long  table.  This  feast  was  very  joyous 
and  merry,  and  except  that  the  parson  would  be  facetious 
over  his  bottle,  nothing  unseemingly  or  immodest  was 
said.  So  we  stayed  at  table  in  exceeding  good  fellowship 
till  the  candles  were  lit,  and  then  the  parson,  being  very 
drunk,  we  made  a  pretext  of  carrying  him  home  to  break 
up  our  company  and  leave  the  happy  couple  to  their 
joy. 

December  26.  Down  betimes  yesterday  morning  to  find 
the  sky  still  clear,  the  air  brisk  and  dry,  and  ample  prom- 
ise of  a  fair  day.  To  the  Court,  and  there  perceive  the 
great  ox  spitted  on  a  stout  fir  pole,  and  the  fire  just  kind- 
ling; John  the  gardener  setting  up  the  barrels  of  beer,  and  a 
famous  crowd  of  boys  and  beggars  already  standing  before 
the  gates.  And  there  they  might  have  stayed  till  their 
dinner  was  cooked,  ere  I  had  let  them  in,  but  Moll  com- 
ing down  from  the  house  with  her  husband,  and  seeing 
this  shivering  crew,  their  pinched  cheeks  yellow  and  their 
noses  blue  with  cold,  and  so  famished  with  hunger  they 
could  scarce  find  strength  to  cry,  "God  bless  you,  merry 
gentlefolks!"  she  would  have  them  taste  at  once  some  of 
that  happiness  with  which  her  heart  was  overflowing,  and 
so  did  with  her  own  hands  unbolt  the  gates  and  set  them 
wide,  bidding  the  halting  wretches  come  in  and  warm 
themselves.  Not  content  with  this,  she  sends  up  to  the 
house  for  loaves  and  gives  every  one  a  hunch  of  bread 
and  a  mug  of  ale  to  stay  his  empty  stomach.  And  Lord, 
'twas  a  pleasure  to  see  these  poor  folks'  joy  —  how  they 


WONDROUS   JOYFUL    ALL.  22Q 

spread  their  hands  out  to  the  flames;  how  they  cockered 
up  the  fire  here  and  there  to  brown  their  ox  equally,  with 
all  hands  now  and  then  to  turn  him  on  the  spit;  how  they 
would  set  their  bread  to  catch  the  dropping  gravy;  and 
how  they  would  lift  their  noses  to  catch  the  savoury  whiffs 
that  came  from  the  roasting  beef. 

This  is  all  very  well,  thinks  I,  but  how  about  our  geese 
and  turkeys?  will  our  tenants  come,  or  shall  we  find  that 
Simon  hath  spoilt  their  appetite,  and  so  be  left  with 
nought  but  starved  beggars  for  our  company?  However, 
before  four  o'clock  an  end  was  put  to  these  doubts,  for 
some  in  waggons,  others  on  horse,  with  their  wives  or 
sweethearts  on  pillions  behind,  clasping  their  men  tight, 
and  the  rest  afoot,  all  came  that  were  asked  by  me,  and 
more,  and  pretty  jolly  already  with  ale  on  the  road,  and  a 
great  store  of  mistletoe  amongst  them  for  their  further 
merriment.  And  what  pleased  me  as  much  as  anything 
was  to  find  all  mighty  civil  to  Moll  —  nearly  all  offering 
her  a  Christmas  box  of  fresh  eggs,  honey,  and  such  homely 
produce,  which  she  received  with  the  most  pretty,  winning 
grace,  that  went  home  to  every  heart,  so  that  the  hardest 
faces  were  softened  with  a  glow  of  contentment  and  admi- 
ration. Then  down  we  sat  to  table,  Moll  at  one  end  and 
her  husband  beside  her;  Don  Sanchez  and  I  at  t'other; 
and  all  the  rest  packed  as  close  as  sprats  in  a  barrel;  but 
every  lad  squeezing  closer  to  his  lass  to  make  room  for  his 
neighbour,  we  found  room  for  all  and  not  a  sour  look  any- 
where. Dear  heart!  what  appetites  they  had,  yet  would 
waste  nothing,  but  picked  every  one  his  bone  properly 
clean  (which  did  satisfy  me  nothing  was  amiss  with  our 
geese),  and  great  cheering  when  the  puddings  and  flap- 


23O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

dragons  came  in  all  aflame,  and  all  as  merry  as  grigs  — 
flinging  of  lighted  plums  at  each  other,  but  most  mannerly 
not  to  fling  any  at  Moll  or  us.  Then  more  shouting  for 
joy  when  the  bowls  of  wassail  and  posset  come  in,  and  all 
standing  to  give  three  times  three  for  their  new  mistress 
and  her  husband.  Hearing  of  which,  the  beggars  without 
(now  tired  of  dancing  about  the  embers)  troop  up  to  the 
door  and  give  three  times  three  as  well,  and  end  with  cry- 
ing joy  and  long  life  to  the  wedded  pair.  When  this 
tumult  was  ended  and  the  door  shut,  Mr.  Godwin  gave  a 
short  oration,  thanking  our  tenants  for  their  company  and 
good  wishes;  and  then  he  told  them  how  his  dear  wife 
and  he,  wishing  others  to  share  their  joy  and  remember 
this  day,  had  resolved  to  forgive  every  tenant  one-half  of 
his  quarter's  rent.  "And  so,  Mr.  Hopkins,"  says  he, 
addressing  me,  "you  will  think  of  this  to-morrow." 

At  first  I  was  disposed  to  begrudge  this  munificence  — 
thinking  of  my  accounts  and  the  bills  I  should  have  to 
pay  ere  rent  day  came  again;  but  on  second  thoughts  it  re- 
joiced me  much  as  being  a  counterblast  to  anything  Simon 
could  do  against  us.  For  no  tenant,  thinks  I,  will  be  fool 
enough  to  withold  payment  when  he  may  get  his  quittance 
to-morrow  for  half  its  value.  And  herein  was  I  not  mis- 
taking; for  to-day  every  tenant  hath  paid  with  a  cheerful 
countenance.  So  that  this  is  very  good  business,  and  I 
am  not  in  any  way  astonished  to  find  that  our  subtle 
Spaniard  was  at  the  bottom  of  it,  for  indeed  it  was  Don 
Sanchez  who  (knowing  my  fears  on  this  head  and  thinking 
them  well-grounded)  suggested  this  act  of  generosity  to 
Moll,  which  she,  in  her  fulness  of  heart,  seized  on  at  once. 
(Truly,  I  believe  she  would  give  the  clothes  off  her  back, 


DON    SANCHEZ    LEAVES    US,    ILL    OMEN.  23 1 

no  matter  what  it  cost  her,  to  any  one  in  need,  so  reckless 
is  she  in  love  and  pity.) 

December  27.  Don  Sanchez  took  leave  of  us  this  day,  he 
setting  forth  for  Spain  to-morrow,  with  the  hope  to  reach 
his  friends  there,  for  their  great  feast  of  the  New  Year. 
And  we  are  all  mighty  sorry  to  lose  him ;  for  not  only  hath 
he  been  a  rare  good  friend  to  us,  but  also  he  is  a  most 
seemly  gentleman  (to  keep  us  in  countenance),  and  a  very 
good  staunch  and  reliable  companion.  But  this  comprises 
not  all  our  loss,  he  having,  as  I  confess,  more  wit  in  his  little 
finger  than  we  in  all  our  bodies,  and  being  ever  ready  with  an 
expedient  in  the  hour  of  need ;  and  I  know  not  why,  but  I 
look  on  his  going  as  a  sign  of  coming  evil ;  nor  am  I  greatly 
comforted  by  his  telling  me  privily  that  when  we  want  him 
he  shall  be  found  by  a  letter  sent  to  the  Albego  Puerto  del 
Sole,  Toledo,  in  Spain.  And  I  pray  Heaven  we  have  no 
occasion  to  write  to  him. 

To-night  at  supper  I  find  Moll  all  cock-a-hoop  with  a 
new  delight,  by  reason  of  her  dear  husband  offering  to  take 
her  to  London  for  a  month  to  visit  the  theatres  and  other 
diversions,  which  put  me  to  a  new  quirk  for  fear  Moll  should 
be  known  by  any  of  our  former  playhouse  companions.  But 
this  I  now  perceive  is  a  very  absurd  fear ;  for  no  one  in  the 
world  who  had  seen  Moll  three  years  ago  —  a  half-starved, 
long-legged,  raw  child  —  could  recognise  her  now,  a  beauti- 
ful, well-proportioned  young  woman  in  her  fine  clothes ;  and 
so  my  mind  is  at  ease  on  this  head.  When  Moll  was  retired, 
Mr.  Godwin  asked  if  I  could  let  him  have  a  few  hundreds 
upon  his  account,  and  I  answered  very  willingly  he  shall. 
And  now  setting  aside  enough  to  pay  all  bills  and  furnish  our 
wants  till  next  quarter  day,  I  am  resolved  to  give  him  every 


232  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

farthing  left  of  the  rents  paid  yesterday,  and  shall  be  most 
hearty  glad  to  be  rid  of  it,  for  this  money  do  seem  to  scar 
my  hands  every  time  I  touch  it ;  nor  can  I  look  at  it  but 
my  heart  is  wrung  with  pity  for  those  poor  tenants  who  paid 
so  gleefully  yesterday,  for  surely  their  quittances  will  hold 
good  for  no  more  than  spoilt  paper  if  ever  our  roguery  is 
discovered. 

December  28.  This  day  Moll  and  Mr.  Godwin  set  out  for 
London,  all  smiles  and  gladness,  and  Moll  did  make  me 
promise  to  visit  them  there,  and  share  their  pleasures.  But 
if  I  have  no  more  appetite  for  gaiety  than  I  feel  at  this 
moment,  I  shall  do  better  to  stay  here  and  mind  my  busi- 
ness ;  though  I  do  expect  to  find  little  pleasure  in  that,  and 
must  abide  by  a  month  of  very  dull,  gloomy  days. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Of  the  great  change  in  Moll,  and  the  likely  explanation  thereof. 

A  WEEK  before  the  promised  month  was  up,  Moll  and  her 
husband  came  back  to  the  Court,  and  lest  I  should  imagine 
that  her  pleasures  had  been  curtailed  by  his  caprice,  she  was 
at  great  pains  to  convince  me  that  he  had  yielded  to  her 
insistence  in  this  matter,  declaring  she  was  sick  of  theatres, 
ridottos,  masquerades,  and  sight-seeing,  and  had  sighed 
to  be  home  ere  she  had  been  in  London  a  week.  This 
surprised  me  exceedingly,  knowing  how  passionate  fond 
she  had  ever  been  of  the  playhouse  and  diversions  of  any 
kind,  and  remembering  how  eager  she  was  to  go  to  town 
with  her  husband ;  and  I  perceived  there  was  more  signifi- 
cance in  the  present  distaste  for  diversion  than  she  would 
have  known.  And  I  observed  further  (when  the  joy  of 
return  and  ordering  her  household  subsided)  that  she  her- 
self had  changed  in  these  past  three  weeks,  more  than  was 
to  be  expected  in  so  short  a  time.  For,  though  she  seemed 
to  love  her  husband  more  than  ever  she  had  loved  him  as 
her  lover,  and  could  not  be  happy  two  minutes  out  of  his 
company,  'twas  not  that  glad,  joyous  love  of  the  earlier  days, 
but  a  yearning,  clinging  passion,  that  made  me  sad  to  see ; 
for  I  could  not  look  upon  the  strained,  anxious  tenderness 
in  her  young  face  without  bethinking  me  of  my  poor  sister, 
as  she  knelt  praying  by  her  babe's  cot  for  God  to  spare  its 
frail  life. 

233 


234  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

Yet  her  husband  never  looked  more  hearty  and  strong, 
and  every  look  and  word  of  his  bespoke  increasing  love. 
The  change  in  her  was  not  unperceived  by  him,  and  often 
he  would  look  down  into  her  wistful,  craving  eyes  as  if  he 
would  ask  of  her,  "What  is  it,  love?  tell  me  all."  And  she, 
as  understanding  this  appeal,  would  answer  nothing,  but 
only  shake  her  head,  still  gazing  into  his  kind  eyes  as  if  she 
would  have  him  believe  she  had  nought  to  tell. 

These  things  made  me  very  thoughtful  and  urgent  to  find 
some  satisfactory  explanation.  To  be  sure,  thinks  I,  mar- 
riage is  but  the  beginning  of  a  woman's  real  life,  and  so  one 
may  not  reasonably  expect  her  to  be  what  she  was  as  a 
thoughtless  child.  And  'tis  no  less  natural  that  a  young 
wife  should  love  to  be  alone  with  her  husband,  rather  than 
in  the  midst  of  people  who  must  distract  his  thoughts  from 
her ;  as  also  it  is  right  and  proper  she  should  wish  to  be  in 
her  own  home,  directing  her  domestic  affairs  and  tending  to 
her  husband  —  showing  him  withal  she  is  a  good  and  thought- 
ful housewife.  But  why  these  pensive  tristful  looks,  now  she 
hath  her  heart's  desire?  Then,  finding  I  must  seek  some 
better  explanation  of  her  case,  I  bethought  me  she  must 
have  had  a  very  hard,  difficult  task  in  London  to  conceal 
from  one,  who  was  now  a  part  of  herself,  her  knowledge 
of  so  many  things  it  was  unbefitting  she  should  reveal. 
At  the  playhouse  she  must  feign  astonishment  at  all  she 
saw,  as  having  never  visited  one  before,  and  keep  con- 
stant guard  upon  herself  lest  some  word  slipped  her  lips 
to  reveal  her  acquaintance  with  the  players  and  their  art. 
At  the  ridotto  she  must  equally  feign  ignorance  of  modish 
dancing  —  she  whose  nimble  feet  had  tripped  to  every 
measure  since  she  could  stand  alone.  There  was  scarcely 


MOLL  RETURNS,  MUCH  CHANGED.       235 

a  subject  on  which  she  would  dare  to  speak  without  deliber- 
ation, and  she  must  check  her  old  habit  of  singing  and  be 
silent,  lest  she  fall  by  hazard  to  humming  some  known  tune. 
Truly,  under  such  continuous  strain  (which  none  but  such 
a  trained  actress  could  maintain  for  a  single  day)  her  spirit 
must  have  wearied.  And  if  this  part  was  hard  to  play  in 
public,  where  we  are  all,  I  take  it,  actors  of  some  sort  and 
on  the  alert  to  sustain  the  character  we  would  have  our  own, 
how  much  more  difficult  must  it  be  in  private  when  we 
drop  our  disguise  and  lay  our  hearts  open  to  those  we  love  ! 
And  here,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  I  did  hit  rightly  at  the  true 
cause  of  her  present  secret  distress ;  for  at  home  as  abroad 
she  must  still  be  acting  a  part,  weighing  her  words,  guarding 
her  acts  —  for  ever  to  be  hiding  of  something  from  her  dear- 
est friend  —  ever  denying  him  that  confidence  he  appealed 
for  —  ever  keeping  a  cruel,  biting  bond  upon  the  most  gen- 
erous impulse  of  her  heart,  closing  that  heart  when  it  was 
bursting  to  open  to  her  dear  mate. 

Soon  after  their  return  Mr.  Godwin  set  to  work  paint- 
ing the  head  of  a  Sybil,  which  the  Lord  of  Hatfield  House 
had  commanded,  on  the  recommendation  of  Sir  Peter  Lely, 
taking  Anne  Fitch  for  his  model,  and  she  sitting  in  that 
room  of  the  Court  house  he  had  prepared  for  his  work- 
shop. Here  he  would  be  at  it  every  day,  as  long  as  there 
was  light  for  his  purpose,  Moll,  near  at  hand,  watching 
him,  ready  to  chat  or  hold  her  peace,  according  to  his  incli- 
nation— just  as  she  had  done  when  he  was  a-painting  of 
the  ceiling,  only  that  now  her  regard  was  more  intent  upon 
him  than  his  work,  and  when  he  turned  to  look  at  her, 
'twas  with  interchange  of  undisguised  love  in  their  fond  eyes. 
She  ever  had  a  piece  of  work  or  a  book  in  her  lap,  but  she 


236  A    SET   OF    ROGUES. 

made  not  half  a  dozen  stitches  or  turned  a  single  page  in 
the  whole  day,  for  he  was  the  sole  occupation  of  her  mind ; 
the  living  book,  ever  yielding  her  sweet  thoughts. 

This  persevering,  patient  toil  on  his  part  did  at  first 
engender  in  my  mind  suspicion  that  some  doubting  thoughts 
urged  him  to  assume  his  independence  against  any  accident 
that  might  befall  the  estate ;  but  now  I  believe  'twas  noth- 
ing but  a  love  of  work  and  of  his  art,  and  that  his  mind 
was  free  from  any  taint  of  misgiving,  as  regards  his  wife's 
honesty.  'Tis  likely  enough,  that  spite  her  caution,  many 
a  word  and  sign  escaped  Moll,  which  an  enemy  would  have 
quickly  seized  on  to  prove  her  culpable ;  but  we  do  never 
see  the  faults  of  those  we  love  (or,  seeing  them,  have  ready 
at  a  moment  excuse  to  prove  them  no  faults  at  all),  and 
at  this  time  Mr.  Godwin's  heart  was  so  full  of  love,  there 
was  no  place  for  other  feeling.  Venom  from  a  rose  had 
seemed  to  him  more  possible  than  evil,  from  one  so  natural, 
sweet,  and  beautiful  as  Moll. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Moll  plays  us  a  mad  prank  for  the  last  time  in  her  life. 

ABOUT  once  in  a  fortnight  I  contrived  to  go  to  London  for 
a  couple  of  days  on  some  pretext  of  business,  and  best  part 
of  this  time  I  spent  with  Dawson.  And  the  first  visit  I  paid 
him  after  the  return  of  Moll  and  her  husband,  telling  him 
of  their  complete  happiness,  Moll's  increasing  womanly 
beauty,  and  the  prosperous  aspect  of  our  affairs  (for  I  had 
that  day  positive  assurance  our  seal  would  be  obtained 
within  a  month),  I  concluded  by  asking  if  his  mast  might 
not  now  be  stepped,  and  he  be  in  a  position  to  come  to 
Chislehurst  and  see  her  as  he  had  before. 

"  No,  Kit,  thanking  ye  kindly,"  says  he,  after  fighting  it 
out  with  himself  in  silence  a  minute  or  two,  "  better  not.  I 
am  getting  in  a  manner  used  to  this  solitude,  and  bar  two  or 
three  days  a  week  when  I  feel  a  bit  hangdog  and  hipped 
a-thinking  there's  not  much  in  this  world  for  an  old  fellow 
to  live  for  when  he's  lost  his  child,  I  am  pretty  well  content. 
It  would  only  undo  me.  If  you  had  a  child  —  your  own 
flesh  and  blood  —  part  of  your  life  —  a  child  that  had  been 
to  you  what  my  sweet  Moll  hath  been  to  me,  you  would  com- 
prehend better  how  I  feel.  To  pretend  indifference  when 
you're  longing  to  hug  her  to  your  heart,  to  talk  of  fair 
weather  and  foul  when  you're  thinking  of  old  times,  and 
then  to  bow  and  scrape  and  go  away  without  a  single  desire 
of  your  aching  heart  satisfied,  —  'tis  more  than  a  man  with 

237 


238  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

a  spark  of  warmth  in  his  soul  can  bear."  And  then  he  pro- 
ceeded to  give  a  dozen  other  reasons  for  declining  the  tempt- 
ing bait,  —  the  sum  of  all  proving  to  my  conviction  that  he 
was  dying  to  see  Moll,  and  I  feared  he  would  soon  be  doing 
by  stealth  that  which  it  were  much  safer  he  should  do 
openly. 

About  a  week  after  this  I  got  a  letter  from  him,  asking  me 
to  come  again  as  soon  as  I  might,  he  having  cut  his  hand  with 
a  chisel,  "  so  that  I  cannot  work  my  lathe,  and  having  nothing 
to  occupy  my  mind,  do  plague  myself  beyond  endurance." 

Much  concerned  for  my  old  friend,  I  lose  no  time  in  re- 
pairing to  Greenwich,  where  I  find  him  sitting  idle  before  his 
lathe,  with  an  arm  hanging  in  a  handkerchief,  and  his  face 
very  yellow ;  but  this,  I  think,  was  of  drinking  too  much  ale. 
And  here  he  fell  speedily  discoursing  of  Moll,  saying  he 
could  not  sleep  of  nights  for  thinking  of  the  pranks  she 
used  to  play  us,  our  merry  vagabond  life  together  in  Spain  ere 
we  got  to  Elche,  etc.,  and  how  he  missed  her  now  more  than 
ever  he  did  before.  After  that,  as  I  anticipated,  he  came  in  a 
shuffling,  roundabout  way  (as  one  ashamed  to  own  his  weak- 
ness) to  hinting  at  seeing  Moll  by  stealth,  declaring  he 
would  rather  see  her  for  two  minutes  now  and  again 
peering  through  a  bush,  though  she  should  never  cast  a 
glance  his  way,  than  have  her  treat  him  as  if  she  were  not 
his  child  and  ceased  to  feel  any  love  for  him.  But  seeing 
the  peril  of  such  ways,  I  would  by  no  means  consent  to  his 
hanging  about  the  Court  like  a  thief,  and  told  him  plainly 
that  unless  he  would  undo  us  all  and  ruin  Moll,  he  must 
come  openly  as  before  or  not  at  all. 

Without  further  demur  he  consents  to  be  guided  by  me, 
and  then,  very  eagerly,  asks  when  it  will  be  proper  for  him 


A    FORESHADOWING.  239 

to  come ;  and  we  agree  that  if  he  come  in  a  week's  time, 
there  will  be  no  thought  in  anybody's  mind  of  our  having 
conspired  to  this  end. 

As  the  fates  would  have  it,  Mr.  Godwin  finished  his  paint- 
ing on  the  Saturday  following  (the  most  wonderful  piece  of 
its  kind  I  ever  saw,  or  any  one  else,  in  my  belief) ,  and  being 
justly  proud  of  his  work  and  anxious  Sir  Peter  Lely  should 
see  it  soon,  he  resolved  he  would  carry  it  to  Hatfield  on 
Monday.  Moll,  who  was  prouder  of  her  husband's  piece 
than  if  it  were  of  her  own  doing,  was  not  less  eager  it  should 
be  seen ;  yet  the  thought  that  she  must  lose  him  for  four  days 
(for  this  journey  could  not  well  be  accomplished  in  less 
time)  cast  down  her  spirits  exceedingly.  'Twas  painful  to 
see  her  efforts  to  be  cheerful  despite  of  herself.  And,  see- 
ing how  incapable  she  was  of  concealing  her  real  feeling  from 
him  whom  she  would  cheer,  she  at  length  confessed  to  him 
her  trouble.  "  I  would  have  you  go,  and  yet  I'd  have  you 
stay,  love,"  says  she. 

"  Tis  but  a  little  while  we  shall  be  parted,"  says  he. 

"A  little  while?"  says  she,  trembling  and  wringing  one 
hand  within  the  other.  "  It  seems  to  me  as  if  we  were  part- 
ing for  ever." 

"Why,  then,"  returns  he,  laughing,  "we  will  not  part  at 
all.  You  shall  come  with  me,  chuck.  What  should  prevent 
you?" 

She  starts  with  joy  at  this,  then  looks  at  him  incredulous 
for  a  moment,  and  so  her  countenance  falling  again,  she 
shakes  her  head  as  thinking,  I  take  it,  that  if  it  were  advis- 
able she  should  go  with  him,  he  would  have  proposed  it 
before. 

"  No,"  says  she,  "  'twas  an  idle  fancy,  and  I'll  not  yield  to 


24O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

it.  I  shall  become  a  burden,  rather  than  a  helpmate,  if  you 
cannot  stir  from  home  without  me.  Nay,"  adds  she,  when 
he  would  override  this  objection,  "you  must  not  tempt 
me  to  be  weak,  but  rather  aid  me  to  do  that  which  I  feel 
right." 

And  she  would  not  be  persuaded  from  this  resolution,  but 
bore  herself  most  bravely,  even  to  the  moment  when  she 
and  her  husband  clasped  each  for  the  last  time  in  a  farewell 
embrace. 

She  stood  where  he  had  left  her  for  some  moments  after 
he  was  gone.  Suddenly  she  ran  a  few  paces  with  parted 
lips  and  outstretched  hands,  as  if  she  would  call  him  back ; 
then,  as  sharply  she  halts,  clasping  her  hands,  and  so 
presently  turns  back,  looking  across  her  shoulder,  with  such 
terror  in  her  white  face,  that  I  do  think  her  strong  imagi- 
nation figured  some  accusing  spirits,  threatening  the  end  of 
all  her  joys. 

I  followed  her  into  the  house,  but  there  I  learnt  from 
Mrs.  Butterby  that  her  mistress  was  gone  to  her  own 
chamber. 

As  I  was  sitting  in  my  office  in  the  afternoon,  Jack 
Dawson  came  to  me  in  his  seaman's  dress,  his  hand  still 
wrapped  up,  but  his  face  more  healthful  for  his  long  ride 
and  cheerful  thoughts. 

"  Why,  this  could  not  have  fallen  out  better,"  says  I, 
when  we  had  exchanged  greetings ;  "  for  Moll  is  all  alone, 
and  down  in  the  dumps  by  reason  of  her  husband  having 
left  her  this  morning  on  business,  that  will  hold  him  absent 
for  three  or  four  days.  We  will  go  up  presently  and  have 
supper  with  her." 

"  No,  Kit,"   says  he,  very  resolutely,  "  I'll  not.     I  am 


MOLL    HATH    A    VISION.  24! 

resolved  I  won't  go  there  till  to-morrow,  for  this  is  no  hour 
to  be  a-calling  on  ladies,  and  her  husband  being  away  'twill 
look  as  if  we  had  ordered  it  of  purpose.  Besides,  if  Moll's 
in  trouble,  how  am  I  to  pretend  I  know  nothing  of  the  mat- 
ter and  care  less,  and  this  Mother  Butterby  and  a  parcel  of 
sly,  observant  servants  about  to  surprise  one  at  any  moment  ? 
Say  no  more  —  'tis  useless  —  for  I  won't  be  persuaded 
against  my  judgment." 

"As  you  will,"  says  I. 

"There's  another  reason,  if  other's  needed,"  says  he, 
"and  that's  this  plaguey  thirst  of  mine,  which  seizes  me 
when  I'm  doleful  or  joyful,  with  a  force  there's  no  resisting. 
And  chiefly  it  seizes  me  in  the  later  part  of  the  day ;  there- 
fore, I'd  have  you  take  me  to  the  Court  to-morrow  morning 
betimes,  ere  it's  at  its  worst.  My  throat's  like  any  limekiln 
for  dryness  now ;  so  do  pray,  Kit,  fasten  the  door  snug,  and 
give  me  a  mug  of  ale." 

This  ended  our  discussion;  but,  as  it  was  necessary  I 
should  give  some  reason  for  not  supping  with  Moll,  I  left 
Dawson  with  a  bottle,  and  went  up  to  the  house  to  find  Moll. 
There  I  learnt  that  she  was  still  in  her  chamber,  and  sleep- 
ing, as  Mrs.  Butterby  believed ;  so  I  bade  the  good  woman 
tell  her  mistress  when  she  awoke  that  Captain  Evans  had 
come  to  spend  the  night  with  me,  and  he  would  call  to 
pay  her  his  devoirs  the  next  morning. 

Here,  that  nothing  may  be  unaccounted  for  in  the  se- 
quence of  events,  I  must  depart  from  my  train  of  present 
observation  to  speak  from  after-knowledge. 

I  have  said  that  when  Moll  started  forward,  as  if  to  over- 
take her  husband,  she  suddenly  stopped  as  if  confronted  by 
some  menacing  spectre.  And  this  indeed  was  the  case ; 
R 


242  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

for  at  that  moment  there  appeared  to  her  heated  imag- 
ination (for  no  living  soul  was  there)  a  little,  bent  old 
woman,  clothed  in  a  single  white  garment  of  Moorish 
fashion,  and  Moll  knew  that  she  was  Mrs.  Godwin  (though 
seeing  her  now  for  the  first  time),  come  from  Barbary  to 
claim  her  own,  and  separate  Moll  from  the  husband  she 
had  won  by  fraud. 

She  stood  there  (says  Moll)  within  her  gates,  with  raised 
hand  and  a  most  bitter,  unforgiving  look  upon  her  wasted 
face,  barring  the  way  by  which  Moll  might  regain  her  hus- 
band ;  and  as  the  poor  wife  halted,  trembling  in  dreadful 
awe,  the  old  woman  advanced  with  the  sure  foot  of  right 
and  justice.  What  reproach  she  had  to  make,  what  male- 
diction to  pronounce,  Moll  dared  not  stay  to  hear,  but  turn- 
ing her  back  fled  to  the  house,  where,  gaining  her  chamber, 
she  locked  the  door,  and  flung  herself  upon  her  husband's 
bed ;  and  in  this  last  dear  refuge,  shutting  her  eyes,  clasping 
her  ears,  as  if  by  dulling  her  senses  to  escape  the  phantom, 
she  lay  in  a  convulsion  of  terror  for  the  mere  dread  that 
such  a  thing  might  be. 

Then,  at  the  thought  that  she  might  never  again  be  en- 
folded here  in  her  husband's  arms,  an  agony  of  grief  suc- 
ceeded her  fit  of  maddening  fear,  and  she  wept  till  her 
mind  grew  calm  from  sheer  exhaustion.  And  so,  little  by 
little,  as  her  courage  revived,  she  began  to  reason  with  her- 
self as  how  'twas  the  least  likely  thing  in  the  world  that  if 
Mrs.  Godwin  were  in  England,  she  should  come  to  the 
Court  unattended  and  in  her  Moorish  clothes ;  and  then, 
seeing  the  folly  of  abandoning  herself  to  a  foolish  fancy, 
she  rose,  washed  the  tears  from  her  face,  and  set  herself 
to  find  some  occupation  to  distract  her  thoughts.  And 


MOLL'S    LAST    PRANK.  243 

what  employment  is  nearer  to  her  thoughts  or  dearer  to 
her  heart  than  making  things  straight  for  her  husband ;  so 
she  goes  into  the  next  room  where  he  worked,  and  falls  to 
washing  his  brushes,  cleaning  his  paint-board,  and  putting 
all  things  in  order  against  his  return,  that  he  may  lose  no 
time  in  setting  to  work  at  another  picture.  And  at  dinner 
time,  finding  her  face  still  disfigured  with  her  late  emotions 
and  ashamed  of  her  late  folly,  she  bids  her  maid  bring  a 
snack  to  her  room,  under  the  pretence  that  she  feels  unwell. 
This  meal  she  eats,  still  working  in  her  husband's  room ;  for 
one  improvement  prompting  another,  she  finds  plenty  to  do 
there  :  now  bethinking  her  that  the  hangings  of  her  own  pri- 
vate room  (being  handsomer)  will  look  better  on  these  walls, 
whereas  t'others  are  more  fit  for  hers,  where  they  are  less 
seen ;  that  this  corner  looks  naked,  and  will  look  better  for 
her  little  French  table  standing  there,  with  a  china  image 
atop,  and  so  forth.  Thus,  then,  did  she  devote  her  time  till 
sundown,  whereabouts  Mrs.  Butterby  raps  at  her  door  to 
know  if  she  will  have  a  cup  of  warm  caudle  to  comfort  her, 
at  the  same  time  telling  her  that  Mr.  Hopkins  will  not  sup 
with  her,  as  he  has  Captain  Evans  for  his  guest  at  the  lodge. 
And  now  Moll,  by  that  natural  succession  of  extremes 
which  seems  to  be  a  governing  law  of  nature  (as  the  flow 
the  ebb,  the  calm  the  storm,  day  the  night,  etc.),  was  not 
less  elated  than  she  had  been  depressed  in  the  early  part 
of  the  day,  —  but  still,  I  take  it,  in  a  nervous,  excitable 
condition.  And  hearing  her  father,  whom  she  has  not  seen 
so  long,  is  here,  a  thousand  mad  projects  enter  her  lively 
imagination.  So,  when  Mrs.  Butterby,  after  the  refusal  of 
her  warm  caudle,  proposes  she  shall  bring  Madam  a  tray 
of  victuals,  that  she  may  pick  something  in  bed,  Moll,  stifling 


244  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

a  merry  thought,  asks,  in  a  feeble  voice,  what  there  is  in 
the  larder. 

"Why,  Madam,"  says  Mrs.  Butterby,  from  the  outside, 
"  there's  the  partridges  you  did  not  eat  at  breakfast,  there's 
a  cold  pigeon  pasty  and  a  nice  fresh  ham,  and  a  lovely 
hasty  pudding  I  made  with  my  own  hands,  in  the  pot." 

"  Bring  'em  all,"  says  Moll,  in  the  same  aching  voice ; 
"and  I'll  pick  what  tempts  me." 

Therewith,  she  silently  slips  the  bolt  back,  whips  on  her 
nightgown,  and  whips  into  bed. 

Presently,  up  comes  Mrs.  Butterby,  carrying  a  wax  candle, 
followed  by  a  couple  of  maids  charged  with  all  the  pro- 
visions Moll  had  commanded.  Having  permission  to  enter, 
the  good  woman  sets  down  her  candle,  puts  on  her  glasses, 
and,  coming  to  the  bedside,  says  she  can  see  very  well  by 
her  poor  looks,  that  her  dear  mistress  has  got  a  disorder 
of  the  biliaries  on  her,  and  prays  Heaven  it  may  not  turn 
to  something  worse. 

"  Nay,"  says  Moll,  very  faintly,  "  I  shall  be  well  again 
when  I  am  relieved  of  this  headache,  and  if  I  can  only  fall 
asleep,  —  as  I  feel  disposed  to,  —  you  will  see  me  to-morrow 
morning  in  my  usual  health.  I  shan't  attempt  to  rise  this 
evening"  ("For  mercy's  sake,  don't,"  cries  Mrs.  Butterby), 
"and  so,  I  pray  you,  order  that  no  one  shall  come  near  my 
room  to  disturb  me  "  ("  I'll  see  that  no  one  so  much  as  sets 
a  foot  on  your  stair,  Madam,  poor  dear  ! "  says  t'other),  "and 
you  will  see  that  all  is  closed  carefully.  And  so  good-night, 
mother,  and  good-night  to  you,  Jane  and  Betsy — oh,  my 
poor  head  ! " 

With  a  whispered  "Good-night,  dear  madam,"  Mrs. 
Butterby  and  the  maids  leave  the  room  a-tiptoe,  closing 


NICELY    FOOLED.  245 

the  door  behind  them  as  if  'twere  of  gingerbread ;  and  no 
sooner  are  they  gone  than  Moll,  big  with  her  mad  design, 
nips  out  of  bed,  strips  off  her  nightgown,  and  finding  noth- 
ing more  convenient  for  her  purpose,  puts  the  ham,  pasty, 
and  partridges  in  a  clean  pillow-slip.  This  done,  she  puts 
on  her  cloak  and  hood,  and  having  with  great  caution  set 
the  door  open  and  seen  all  safe  and  quiet  below,  she  takes 
up  her  bag  of  victuals,  blows  out  the  candle,  and  as  silent  as 
any  mouse  makes  her  way  to  the  little  private  staircase  at 
the  end  of  the  stairs.  And  now,  with  less  fear  of  encounter- 
ing Mrs.  Godwin  than  Black  Bogey,  she  feels  her  way  down 
the  dark,  narrow  staircase,  reaches  the  lower  door,  unbolts 
it,  and  steps  out  on  the  path  at  the  back  of  the  house. 

There  is  still  a  faint  twilight,  and  this  enables  her  to  find 
her  way  to  the  wicket  gate  opposite  Anne  Fitch's  cottage. 
Not  a  soul  is  to  be  seen ;  and  so,  with  her  hood  drawn  well 
over  her  head,  she  speeds  on,  and  in  five  minutes  reaches 
my  house.  Here  finding  the  door  fastened,  she  gives  a 
couple  of  knocks,  and  on  my  opening  she  asks  meekly  in 
a  feigned  voice,  which  for  the  life  of  me  I  should  not  have 
known  for  hers,  if  I  am  minded  to  buy  a  couple  of  par- 
tridges a  friend  has  sent  and  she  has  no  use  for. 

"  Partridges !  "  cries  Dawson,  from  within.  "  Have  'em, 
Kit,  for  your  bread  and  cheese  is  mighty  every-day 
fare." 

"Let  me  see  'em,  good  woman,"  says  I. 

"Yes,  sir,"  answers  she,  meekly,  putting  her  pillow-slip 
in  my  hand,  which  perplexed  me  vastly  by  its  weight  and 
bulk. 

"They  seem  to  be  pretty  big  birds  by  the  feel  of  'em," 
says  I.  "You  can  come  in  and  shut  the  door  after  you." 


246  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

Moll  shuts  the  door  and  shoots  the  bolt,  then  tripping 
behind  me  into  the  light  she  casts  back  her  hood  and  flings 
her  arms  round  her  father's  neck  with  a  peal  of  joyful 
laughter. 

"What!"  cries  I.  "Why,  what  can  have  brought  you 
here?" 

"  Why,  I  knew  you'd  have  nothing  to  give  my  poor  old 
dad  but  mouldy  cheese,  so  I've  brought  you  a  brace  of 
partridges,  if  you  please,  sir,"  says  she,  concluding  in  her 
feigned  voice,  as  she  emptied  the  ham,  pasty,  and  par- 
tridges all  higgledy-piggledy  out  of  the  slip  on  to  the  table. 

"But,  Mrs.  Godwin —  "  says  I,  in  alarm. 

"Oh,  call  me  Moll,"  cries  she,  wildly.  "Let  me  be 
myself  for  this  one  night." 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

Of  the  subtile   means   whereby   Simon   leads  Mr.    Godwin   to    doubt 
his  wife. 

AGAIN  must  I  draw  upon  matter  of  after-knowledge  to 
show  you  how  all  things  came  to  pass  on  this  fatal  night. 

When  Mr.  Godwin  reached  London,  he  went  to  Sir  Peter 
Lely's  house  in  Lincoln's  Inn,  to  know  if  he  was  still  at 
Hatfield,  and  there  learning  he  was  gone  hence  to  Hamp- 
ton, and  no  one  answering  for  certainty  when  he  would 
return,  Mr.  Godwin,  seeing  that  he  might  linger  in  London 
for  days  to  no  purpose,  and  bethinking  him  how  pale  and 
sorrowful  his  dear  wife  was  when  they  parted,  concludes  to 
leave  his  picture  at  Sir  Peter  Lely's  and  post  back  to  Chisle- 
hurst,  counting  to  give  his  wife  a  happy  surprise. 

About  eight  o'clock  he  reaches  the  Court,  to  find  all 
shut  and  barred  by  the  prudent  housekeeper,  who,  on  letting 
him  in  (with  many  exclamations  of  joy  and  wonder),  falls 
presently  to  sighing  and  shaking  her  head,  as  she  tells  how 
her  mistress  has  lain  abed  since  dinner,  and  is  sick  of  the 
biliaries. 

In  great  concern,  Mr.  Godwin  takes  the  candle  from 
Mrs.  Butterby's  hand,  and  hastes  up  to  his  wife's  room. 
Opening  the  door  softly,  he  enters,  to  find  the  bed  tumbled, 
indeed,  but  empty.  He  calls  her  in  a  soft  voice,  going 
into  the  next  room,  and,  getting  no  reply,  nor  finding  her 
there,  he  calls  again,  more  loudly,  and  there  is  no  response. 
Then,  as  he  stands  irresolute  and  amazed,  he  hears  a  knock 

247 


248  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

at  the  door  below,  and  concluding  that  'tis  his  wife,  who 
has  had  occasion  to  go  out,  seeking  fresh  air  for  her  com- 
fort maybe,  he  runs  swiftly  down  and  opens,  ere  a  servant 
can  answer  the  call.  And  there  he  is  faced,  not  by  sweet 
Moll,  but  the  jaundiced,  wicked  old  Simon,  gasping  and 
panting  for  breath. 

"Dost  thee  know,"  says  he,  fetching  his  breath  at  every 
other  word,  "dost  thee  know  where  the  woman  thy  wife  is?" 

"Where  is  she?"  cries  Mr.  Godwin,  in  quick  alarm, 
thinking  by  this  fellow' s  sweating  haste  that  some  accident 
had  befallen  his  dear  wife. 

"I  will  show  thee  where  she  is;  aye,  and  what  she  is," 
gasps  the  old  man,  and  then,  clasping  his  hands,  he  adds, 
"Verily,  the  Lord  hath  heard  my  prayers  and  delivered 
mine  enemies  into  my  hand." 

Mr.  Godwin,  who  had  stepped  aside  to  catch  up  his  hat 
from  the  table,  where  he  had  flung  it  on  entering,  stopped 
short,  hearing  this  fervent  note  of  praise,  and  turning 
about,  with  misgivings  of  Simon's  purpose,  cries: 

"What  are  your  enemies  to  me? " 

"Everything,"  cries  Simon.  "Mine  enemies  are  thine, 
for  as  they  have  cheated  me  so  have  they  cheated  thee." 

"Enough  of  this,"  cries  Mr.  Godwin.  "Tell  me  where 
my  wife  is,  and  be  done  with  it." 

"  I  say  I  will  show  thee  where  she  is  and  what  she  is." 

"Tell  me  where  she  is,"  cries  Mr.  Godwin,  with  passion. 

"That  is  my  secret,  and  too  precious  to  throw  away." 

"I  comprehend  you,  now,"  says  Mr.  Godwin,  bethink- 
ing him  of  the  fellow's  greed.  "You  shall  be  paid.  Tell 
me  where  she  is  and  name  your  price." 

"The  price  is  this,"  returns  the  other,  "thy  promise  to 


SIMON    ACCUSES    MOLL.  249 

be  secret,  to  catch  them  in  this  trap,  and  give  no  opening 
for  escape.  Oh,  I  know  them;  they  are  as  serpents,  that 
slip  through  a  man's  fingers  and  turn  to  bite.  They  shall 
not  serve  me  so  again.  Promise  —  " 

"Nothing.  Think  you  I'm  of  your  own  base  kind,  to 
deal  with  you  in  treachery?  You  had  my  answer  before, 
when  you  would  poison  my  mind,  rascal.  But,"  adds  he, 
with  fury,  "you  shall  tell  me  where  my  wife  is." 

"I  would. tear  the  tongue  from  my  throat  ere  it  should 
undo  the  work  of  Providence.  If  they  escape  the  present 
vengeance  of  Heaven,  thee  shalt  answer  for  it,  not  I.  Yet 
I  will  give  thee  a  clue  to  find  this  woman  who  hath  fooled 
thee.  Seek  her  where  there  are  thieves  and  drunkards  to 
mock  at  thy  simplicity,  to  jeer  at  their  easy  gull,  for  I  say 
again  thy  wife  never  was  in  Barbary,  but  playing  the  farded, 
wanton  —  " 

The  patience  with  which  Mr.  Godwin  had  harkened  to 
this  tirade,  doubting  by  his  passion  that  Simon  was  stark 
mad,  gave  way  before  this  vile  aspersion  on  his  wife,  and 
clutching  the  old  man  by  the  throat  he  flung  him  across  the 
threshold  and  shut  the  door  upon  him. 

But  where  was  his  wife  ?  That  question  was  still  upper- 
most in  his  thoughts.  His  sole  misgiving  was  that  acci- 
dent had  befallen  her,  and  that  somewhere  in  the  house  he 
should  find  her  lying  cold  and  insensible. 

With  this  terror  in  his  mind,  he  ran  again  upstairs.  On 
the  landing  he  was  met  by  Mrs.  Butterby,  who  (prudent 
soul),  at  the  first  hint  of  misconduct  on  her  mistress's  part, 
had  bundled  the  gaping  servants  up  to  their  rooms. 

"Mercy  on  us,  dear  master!"  says  she.  "Where  can 
our  dear  lady  be  ?  For  a  surety  she  hath  not  left  the  house, 


25O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

for  I  locked  all  up,  as  she  bade  me  when  we  carried  up  her 
supper,  and  had  the  key  in  my  pocket  when  you  knocked. 
'  See  the  house  safe, '  says  she,  poor  soul,  with  a  voice  could 
scarce  be  heared,  'and  let  no  one  disturb  me,  for  I  do 
feel  most  heavy  with  sleep.'  " 

Mr.  Godwin  passed  into  his  wife's  room  and  then  into 
the  next,  looking  about  him  in  distraction. 

"Lord!  here's  the  sweet  thing's  nightgown,"  exclaims 
Mrs.  Butterby,  from  the  next  room,  whither  she  had  followed 
Mr.  Godwin.  "But  dear  heart  o'  me,  where's  the  ham 
gone?" 

Mr.  Godwin,  entering  from  the  next  room,  looked  at  her 
as  doubting  whether  he  or  all  the  world  had  taken  leave  of 
their  wits. 

"And  the  pigeon  pasty?  "  added  Mrs.  Butterby,  regarding 
the  table  laid  out  beside  her  mistress's  bed. 

"And  the  cold  partridge,"  adds  she,  in  redoubled  as- 
tonishment. "Why,  here's  nought  left  but  my  pudding, 
and  that  as  cold  as  a  stone." 

Mr.  Godwin,  with  the  candle  flaring  in  his  hand,  passed 
hastily  by  her,  too  wrought  by  fear  to  regard  either  the 
ludicrous  or  incomprehensible  side  of  Mrs.  Butterby 's 
consternation;  and  so,  going  down  the  corridor  away  from 
the  stairs,  he  comes  to  the  door  of  the  little  back  stairs, 
standing  wide  open,  and  seeming  to  bid  him  descend.  He 
goes  quickly  down,  yet  trembling  with  fear  that  he  may 
find  her  at  the  bottom,  broken  by  a  fall;  but  all  he  dis- 
covers is  the  bolt  drawn  and  the  door  ajar.  As  he  pushes 
it  open  a  gust  of  wind  blows  out  the  light,  and  here  he 
stood  in  the  darkness,  eager  to  be  doing,  yet  knowing  not 
which  way  to  turn  or  how  to  act. 


SIMON    WILL    BE    HEARD.  25! 

Clearly,  his  wife  had  gone  out  by  this  door,  and  so  far 
this  gave  support  to  Simon's  statement  that  he  knew  where 
she  was;  and  with  this  a  flame  was  kindled  within  him 
that  seemed  to  sear  his  very  soul.  If  Simon  spoke  truth 
in  one  particular,  why  should  he  lie  in  others?  Why  had 
his  wife  refused  to  go  with  him  to  Hatfield?  Why  had  she 
bid  no  one  come  near  her  room?  Why  had  she  gone  forth 
by  this  secret  stair,  alone?  Then,  cursing  himself  for  the 
unnamed  suspicion  that  could  thus,  though  but  for  a 
moment,  disfigure  the  fair  image  that  he  worshipped,  he 
asked  himself  why  his  wife  should  not  be  free  to  follow  a 
caprice.  But  where  was  she?  Ever  that  question  surged 
upwards  in  the  tumult  of  his  thoughts.  Where  should  he 
seek  her?  Suddenly  it  struck  him  that  I  might  help  him 
to  find  her,  and  acting  instantly  upon  this  hope  he  made  his 
way  in  breathless  haste  to  the  road,  and  so  towards  my  lodge. 

Ere  he  has  gone  a  hundred  yards,  Simon  steps  out  of  the 
shadow,  and  stands  before  him  like  a  shade  in  the  dimness. 

"I  crave  thy  pardon,  Master,"  says  he,  humbly.  "I 
spoke  like  a  fool  in  my  passion." 

"  If  you  will  have  my  pardon,  tell  me  where  to  find  my 
wife;  if  not,  stand  aside,"  answers  Mr.  Godwin. 

"  Wilt  thee  hear  me  speak  for  two  minutes  if  I  promise 
to  tell  thee  where  she  is  and  suffer  thee  to  find  her  how 
thee  willst.  'Twill  save  thee  time." 

"  Speak,"  says  Mr.  Godwin. 

"Thy  wife  is  there,"  says  Simon,  under  his  breath, 
pointing  towards  my  house.  "  She  is  revelling  with  Hop- 
kins and  Captain  Evans,  —  men  that  she  did  tramp  the 
country  with  as  vagabond  players,  ere  the  Spaniard  taught 
them  more  profitable  wickedness.  Knock  at  the  door, — 


252  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

which  thee  mayst  be  sure  is  fast,  —  and  while  one  holds 
thee  in  parley  the  rest  will  set  the  room  in  order,  and  find 
a  plausible  tale  to  hoodwink  thee  afresh.  Be  guided 
by  me,  and  thee  shalt  enter  the  house  unknown  to  them, 
as  I  did  an  hour  since,  and  there  thee  shalt  know,  of  thine 
own  senses,  how  thy  wife  doth  profit  by  thy  blindness.  If 
this  truth  be  not  proved,  if  thee  canst  then  say  that  I  have 
lied  from  malice,  envy,  and  evil  purpose,  this  knife,"  says 
he,  showing  a  blade  in  his  hand,  "  this  knife  will  I  thrust 
into  my  own  heart,  though  I  stand  the  next  instant  before 
the  Eternal  Judge,  my  hands  wet  with  my  own  blood,  to 
answer  for  my  crime." 

"Have  you  finished?  "  asks  Mr.  Godwin. 

"No,  not  yet;  I  hold  thee  to  thy  promise,"  returns 
Simon,  with  eager  haste.  "Why  do  men  lie?  for  their 
own  profit.  What  profit  have  I  in  lying,  when  I  pray  thee 
to  put  my  word  to  the  proof  and  not  take  it  on  trust,  with 
the  certainty  of  punishment  even  if  the  proof  be  doubtful. 
Thee  believest  this  woman  is  what  she  pretends  to  be;  what 
does  that  show? — your  simplicity,  not  hers.  How  would 
women  trick  their  husbands  without  such  skill  to  blind 
them  by  a  pretence  of  love  and  virtue?  " 

"Say  no  more,"  cries  Mr.  Godwin,  hoarsely,  "or  I  may 
strangle  you  before  you  pass  trial.  Go  your  devilish  way, 
I'll  follow." 

"  Now  God  be  praised  for  this !  "  cries  Simon.  "  Softly, 
softly !  "  adds  he,  creeping  in  the  shade  of  the  bank  towards 
the  house. 

But  ere  he  has  gone  a  dozen  paces  Mr.  Godwin  repents 
him  again,  with  shame  in  his  heart,  and  stopping,  says: 

"I'll  go  no  further." 


MR.    GODWIN    ACCEPTS    THE    TRIAL.  253 

"Then  thee  doubtest  my  word  no  longer,"  whispers 
Simon,  quickly.  "  'Tis  fear  that  makest  thee  halt, —  the 
fear  of  finding  thy  wife  a  wanton  and  a  trickster." 

"  No,  no,  by  God  !  " 

"  If  that  be  so,  then  art  thee  bound  to  prove  her  innocent, 
that  I  may  not  say  to  all  the  world,  thee  mightest  have  put 
her  honour  to  the  test  and  dared  not  —  choosing  rather  to 
cheat  thyself  and  be  cheated  by  her,  than  know  thyself  dis- 
honoured. If  thee  dost  truly  love  this  woman  and  believe  her 
guiltless,  then  for  her  honour  must  thee  put  me  —  not  her  — 
to  this  trial." 

"No  madman  could  reason  like  this,"  says  Mr.  Godwin. 
"  I  accept  this  trial,  and  Heaven  forgive  me  if  I  do  wrong." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

How  we  are  discovered  and  utterly  undone. 

"  WHAT  !  "  cries  Dawson,  catching  his  daughter  in  his  arms 
and  hugging  her  to  his  breast,  when  the  first  shock  of  sur- 
prise was  past.  "  My  own  sweet  Moll  —  come  hither  to 
warm  her  old  father's  heart?" 

"And  my  own,"  says  she,  tenderly,  "which  I  fear  hath 
grown  a  little  wanting  in  love  for  ye  since  I  have  been  mated. 
But,  though  my  dear  Dick  draws  so  deeply  from  my  well  of 
affection,  there  is  still  somewhere  down  here  "  (clapping 
her  hand  upon  her  heart)  "  a  source  that  first  sprang  for  you 
and  can  never  dry." 

"Aye,  and  'tis  a  proof,"  says  he,  "your  coming  here 
where  we  may  speak  and  act  without  restraint,  though  it  be 
but  for  five  minutes." 

"  Five  minutes  ! "  cries  she,  springing  up  with  her  natural 
vivacity,  "  why,  I'll  not  leave  you  before  the  morning,  unless 
you  weary  of  me."  And  then  with  infinite  relish  and  sly 
humour,  she  told  of  her  device  for  leaving  the  Court  without 
suspicion. 

I  do  confess  I  was  at  first  greatly  alarmed  for  the  safe 
issue  of  this  escapade ;  but  she  assuring  me  'twas  a  dirty 
night,  and  she  had  passed  no  one  on  the  road,  I  felt  a  little 
reassured.  To  be  sure,  thinks  I,  Mr.  Godwin  by  some 
accident  may  return,  but  finding  her  gone,  and  hearing 
Captain  Evans  keeps  me  to  my  house,  he  must  conclude 

254 


WE    FALL    A-REVELLING.  255 

she  has  come  hither,  and  think  no  harm  of  her  for  that 
neither  —  seeing  we  are  old  friends  and  sobered  with  years, 
for  'tis  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that,  feeling 
lonely  and  dejected  for  the  loss  of  her  husband,  she  should 
seek  such  harmless  diversion  as  may  be  had  in  our  society. 

However,  for  the  sake  of  appearances  I  thought  it  would 
be  wise  to  get  this  provision  of  ham  and  birds  out  of  sight, 
for  fear  of  misadventure,  and  also  I  took  instant  precaution 
to  turn  the  key  in  my  street  door.  Being  but  two  men,  and 
neither  of  us  over-nice  in  the  formalities,  I  had  set  a  cheese, 
a  loaf,  and  a  bottle  betwixt  us  on  the  bare  table  of  my 
office  room,  for  each  to  serve  himself  as  he  would ;  but  I 
now  proposed  that,  having  a  lady  in  our  company,  we 
should  pay  more  regard  to  the  decencies  by  going  upstairs 
to  my  parlour,  and  there  laying  a  tablecloth  and  napkins  for 
our  repast. 

"Aye,  certainly!"  cries  Moll,  who  had  grown  mighty 
fastidious  in  these  particulars  since  she  had  been  mistress 
of  Hurst  Court ;  "  this  dirty  table  would  spoil  the  best  appe- 
tite in  the  world." 

So  I  carried  a  faggot  and  some  apple  logs  upstairs,  and 
soon  had  a  brave  fire  leaping  up  the  chimney,  by  which 
time  Moll  and  her  father,  with  abundant  mirth,  had  set 
forth  our  victuals  on  a  clean  white  cloth,  and  to  each  of 
us  a  clean  plate,  knife,  and  fork,  most  proper.  Then,  all 
things  being  to  our  hand,  we  sat  down  and  made  a  most 
hearty  meal  of  Mrs.  Butterby's  good  cheer,  and  all  three  of 
us  as  merry  as  grigs,  with  not  a  shadow  of  misgiving. 

There  had  seemed  something  piteous  to  me  in  that  appeal 
of  Moll's,  that  she  might  be  herself  for  this  night ;  and  indeed 
I  marvelled  now  how  she  could  have  so  trained  her  natural 


256  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

disposition  to  an  artificial  manner,  and  did  no  longer  won- 
der at  the  look  of  fatigue  and  weariness  in  her  face  on  her 
return  to  London.  For  the  old  reckless,  careless,  daredevil 
spirit  was  still  alive  in  her,  as  I  could  plainly  see  now  that 
she  abandoned  herself  entirely  to  the  free  sway  of  impulse ; 
the  old  twinkle  of  mirth  and  mischief  was  in  her  eyes ;  she 
was  no  longer  a  fine  lady,  but  a  merry  vagabond  again,  and 
when  she  laughed  'twas  with  her  hands  clasping  her  sides, 
her  head  thrown  back,  and  all  her  white  teeth  gleaming  in 
the  light. 

"  Now,"  says  I,  when  at  length  our  meal  was  finished,  "  I 
will  clear  the  table." 

"  Hoop  !  "  cries  she,  catching  up  the  corners  of  the  table- 
cloth, and  flinging  them  over  the  fragments ;  "  'tis  done. 
Let  us  draw  round  the  fire,  and  tell  old  tales.  Here's  a 
pipe,  dear  dad ;  I  love  the  smell  of  tobacco ;  and  you"  (to 
me)  "  do  fetch  me  a  pipkin,  that  I  may  brew  a  good  drink 
to  keep  our  tongues  going." 

About  the  time  this  drink  was  brewed,  Simon,  leading  Mr. 
Godwin  by  a  circuitous  way,  came  through  the  garden  to  the 
back  of  the  house,  where  was  a  door,  which  I  had  never 
opened  for  lack  of  a  key  td  fit  the  lock.  This  key  was  now 
in  Simon's  hand,  and  putting  it  with  infinite  care  into  the 
hole,  he  softly  turned  it  in  the  wards.  Then,  with  the  like 
precaution,  he  lifts  the  latch  and  gently  thrusts  the  door 
open,  listening  at  every  inch  to  catch  the  sounds  within. 
At  length  'tis  opened  wide ;  and  so,  turning  his  face  to 
Mr.  Godwin,  who  waits  behind,  sick  with  mingled  shame 
and  creeping  dread,  he  beckons  him  to  follow. 

Above,  Dawson  was  singing  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  a  sea- 
song  he  had  learnt  of  a  mariner  at  the  inn  he  frequented  at 


WE    ARE    CONFOUNDED.  257 

Greenwich,  with  a  troll  at  the  end,  taken  up  by  Moll  and 
me.  And  to  hear  his  wife's  voice  bearing  part  in  this  rude 
song,  made  Mr.  Godwin's  heart  to  sink  within  him.  Under 
cover  of  this  noise,  Simon  mounted  the  stairs  without  hesita- 
tion, Mr.  Godwin  following  at  his  heels,  in  a  kind  of  sick 
bewilderment.  'Twas  pitch  dark  up  there,  and  Simon, 
stretching  forth  his  hands  to  know  if  Mr.  Godwin  was  by, 
touched  his  hand,  which  was  deadly  cold  and  quivering ;  for 
here  at  the  door  he  was  seized  with  a  sweating  faintness, 
which  so  sapped  his  vigour  that  he  was  forced  to  hold  by 
the  wall  to  save  himself  from  falling. 

"  Art  thee  ready?  "  asks  Simon  ;  but  he  can  get  no  answer, 
for  Mr.  Godwin's  energies,  quickened  by  a  word  from  with- 
in like  a  jaded  beast  by  the  sting  of  a  whip,  is  straining  his 
ears  to  catch  what  is  passing  within.  And  what  hears  he  ?  — 
The  song  is  ended,  and  Dawson  cries  : 

"  You  han't  lost  your  old  knack  of  catching  a  tune,  Moll. 
Come  hither,  wench,  and  sit  upon  my  knee,  for  I  do  love  ye 
more  than  ever.  Give  me  a  buss,  chuck ;  this  fine  husband 
of  thine  shall  not  have  all  thy  sweetness  to  himself." 

At  this  moment,  Simon,  having  lifted  the  latch  under  his 
thumb,  pushes  wide  open  the  door,  and  there  through  the 
thick  cloud  of  tobacco  smoke  Mr.  Godwin  sees  the  table  in 
disorder,  the  white  cloth  flung  back  over  the  remnants  of 
our  repast  and  stained  with  a  patch  of  liquor  from  an  over- 
turned mug,  a  smutty  pipkin  set  upon  the  board  beside  a 
dish  of  tobacco,  and  a  broken  pipe  —  me  sitting  o'  one  side 
the  hearth  heavy  and  drowsy  with  too  much  good  cheer,  and 
on  t'other  side  his  young  wife,  sitting  on  Dawson's  knee,  with 
one  arm  about  his  neck,  and  he  in  his  uncouth  seaman's 
garb,  with  a  pipe  in  one  hand,  the  other  about  Moll's  waist, 
s 


258  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

a-kissing  her  yielded  cheek.  With  a  cry  of  fury,  like  any 
wild  beast,  he  springs  forward  and  clutches  at  a  knife  that 
lies  ready  to  his  hand  upon  the  board,  and  this  cry  is 
answered  with  a  shriek  from  Moll  as  she  starts  to  her 
feet. 

"Who  is  this  drunken  villain?"  he  cries,  stretching  the 
knife  in  his  hand  towards  Dawson. 

And  Moll,  flinging  herself  betwixt  the  knife  and  Dawson, 
with  fear  for  his  life,  and  yet  with  some  dignity  in  her  voice 
and  gesture,  answers  swiftly : 

"  This  drunken  villain  is  my  father." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

MoWs  conscience  is  quickened  by  grief  and  humiliation  beyond  the 
ordinary. 

"  STAND  aside,  Moll,"  cries  Dawson,  stepping  to  the  fore, 
and  facing  Mr.  Godwin.  "  This  is  my  crime,  and  I  will  answer 
for  it  with  my  blood.  Here  is  my  breast  "  (tearing  open  his 
jerkin).  "Strike,  for  I  alone  have  done  you  wrong,  this 
child  of  mine  being  but  an  instrument  to  my  purpose." 

Mr.  Godwin's  hand  fell  by  his  side,  and  the  knife  slipped 
from  his  fingers. 

"  Speak,"  says  he,  thickly,  after  a  moment  of  horrible 
silence  broken  only  by  the  sound  of  the  knife  striking  the 
floor.  "  If  this  is  your  daughter,  —  if  she  has  lied  to  me,  — 
what  in  God's  name  is  the  truth?  Who  are  you,  I  ask?  " 

"John  Dawson,  a  player,"  answers  he,  seeing  the  time  is 
past  for  lying. 

Mr.  Godwin  makes  no  response,  but  turns  his  eyes  upon 
Moll,  who  stands  before  him  with  bowed  head  and  clasped 
hands,  wrung  to  her  innermost  fibre  with  shame,  remorse, 
and  awful  dread,  and  for  a  terrible  space  I  heard  nothing 
but  the  deep,  painful  breathing  of  this  poor,  overwrought  man. 

"You  are  my  wife,"  says  he,  at  length.  "  Follow  me," 
and  with  that  he  turns  about  and  goes  from  the  room. 
Then  Moll,  without  a  look  at  us,  without  a  word,  her  face 
ghastly  pale  and  drawn  with  agony,  with  faltering  steps, 
obeys,  catching  at  table  and  chair,  as  she  passes,  for  support. 

259 


26O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

Dawson  made  a  step  forward,  as  if  he  would  have  over- 
taken her ;  but  I  withheld  him,  shaking  my  head,  and 
himself  seeing  'twas  in  vain,  he  dropped  into  a  chair,  and, 
spreading  his  arms  upon  the  table,  hides  his  face  in  them 
with  a  groan  of  despair. 

Moll  totters  down  the  dark  stairs,  and  finds  her  husband 
standing  in  the  doorway,  his  figure  revealed  against  the 
patch  of  grey  light  beyond,  for  the  moon  was  risen,  though 
veiled  by  a  thick  pall  of  cloud.  He  sees,  as  she  comes  to 
his  side,  that  she  has  neither  cloak  nor  hood  to  protect  her 
from  the  winter  wind,  and  in  silence  he  takes  off  his  own 
cloak  and  lays  it  on  her  shoulder.  At  this  act  of  mercy  a 
ray  of  hope  animates  Moll's  numbed  soul,  and  she  catches 
at  her  husband's  hand  to  press  it  to  her  lips,  yet  can  find 
never  a  word  to  express  her  gratitude.  But  his  hand  is  cold 
as  ice,  and  he  draws  it  away  from  her  firmly,  with  obvious 
repugnance.  There  was  no  love  in  this  little  act  of  giving 
her  his  cloak ;  'twas  but  the  outcome  of  that  chivalry  in 
gentlemen  which  doth  exact  lenience  even  to  an  enemy. 

So  he  goes  on  his  way,  she  following  like  a  whipped  dog 
at  his  heels,  till  they  reach  the  Court  gates,  and  these  being 
fast  locked,  on  a  little  further,  to  the  wicket  gate.  And 
there,  as  Mr.  Godwin  is  about  to  enter,  there  confronts  him 
Peter,  that  sturdy  Puritan  hireling  of  old  Simon's. 

"  Thee  canst  not  enter  here,  friend,"  says  he,  in  his  cant- 
ing voice,  as  he  sets  his  foot  against  the  gate. 

"  Know  you  who  I  am  ?  "  asks  Mr.  Godwin. 

"  Yea,  friend ;  and  I  know  who  thy  woman  is  also.  I 
am  bidden  by  friend  Simon,  the  true  and  faithful  steward  of 
Mistress  Godwin  in  Barbary,  to  defend  her  house  and  lands 
against  robbers  and  evil-doers  of  every  kind,  and  without 


GODWIN  AND  MOLL  FORBID  TO  ENTER  THE  COURT.      26l 

respect  of  their  degree ;  and,  with  the  Lord's  help,"  adds 
he,  showing  a  stout  cudgel,  "  that  will  I  do,  friend." 

"  Tis  true,  fellow,"  returns  Mr.  Godwin.  "  I  have  no 
right  to  enter  here." 

And  then,  turning  about,  he  stands  irresolute,  as  not 
knowing  whither  he  shall  go  to  find  shelter  for  his  wife. 
For  very  shame,  he  does  not  take  her  to  the  village  inn,  to 
be  questioned  by  gaping  servants  and  landlord,  who,  ere 
long,  must  catch  the  flying  news  of  her  shameful  condition 
and  overthrow.  A  faint  light  in  the  lattice  of  Anne  Fitch's 
cottage  catches  his  eye,  and  he  crosses  to  her  door,  still 
humbly  followed  by  poor  Moll.  There  he  finds  the  thumb- 
piece  gone  from  the  latch,  to  him  a  well-known  sign  that 
Mother  Fitch  has  gone  out  a-nursing ;  so,  pulling  the  hid- 
den string  he  wots  of,  he  lifts  the  latch  within,  and  the  door 
opens  to  his  hand.  A  rush  is  burning  in  a  cup  of  oil  upon  the 
table,  casting  a  feeble  glimmer  round  the  empty  room.  He 
closes  the  door  when  Moll  has  entered,  sets  a  chair  before  the 
hearth,  and  rakes  the  embers  together  to  give  her  warmth. 

"  Forgive  me,  oh,  forgive  me  !  "  cries  Moll,  casting  herself  at 
his  feet  as  he  turns,  and  clasping  his  knees  to  her  stricken  heart. 

"  Forgive  you  !  "  says  he,  bitterly.  "  Forgive  you  for 
dragging  me  down  to  the  level  of  rogues  and  thieves,  for 
making  me  party  to  this  vile  conspiracy  of  plunder.  A  con- 
spiracy that,  if  it  bring  me  not  beneath  the  lash  of  Justice, 
must  blast  my  name  and  fame  for  ever.  You  know  not  what 
you  ask.  As  well  might  you  bid  me  take  you  back  to  finish 
the  night  in  drunken  riot  with  those  others  of  our  gang." 

"  Oh,  no,  not  now  !  not  now  !  "  cries  Moll,  in  agony.  "  Do 
but  say  that  some  day  long  hence,  you  will  forgive  me.  Give 
me  that  hope,  for  I  cannot  live  without  it." 


262  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"That  hope's  my  fear  !  "  says  he.  "  I  have  known  men 
who,  by  mere  contact  with  depravity,  have  so  dulled  their 
sense  of  shame  that  they  could  make  light  of  sins  that  once 
appalled  them.  Who  knows  but  that  one  day  I  may  forgive 
you,  chat  easily  upon  this  villany,  maybe,  regret  I  went  no 
further  in  it." 

"  Oh,  God  forbid  that  shall  be  of  my  doing  !  "  cries  Moll, 
springing  to  her  feet.  "  Broken  as  I  am,  I'll  not  accept  for- 
giveness on  such  terms.  Think  you  I'm  like  those  plague- 
stricken  wretches  who,  of  wanton  wickedness,  ran  from  their 
beds  to  infect  the  clean  with  their  foul  ill?  Not  I." 

"I  spoke  in  heat,"  says  Mr.  Godwin,  quickly.  "I 
repent  even  now  what  I  said." 

"Am  I  so  steeped  in  infamy,"  continues  she,  "that  I  am 
past  all  cure?  Think,"  adds  she,  piteously,  "I  am  not 
eighteen  yet.  I  was  but  a  child  a  year  ago,  with  no  more 
judgment  of  right  and  wrong  than  a  savage  creature.  Until 
I  loved  you,  I  think  I  scarcely  knew  the  meaning  of  con- 
science. The  knowledge  came  when  I  yearned  to  keep  no 
secret  from  you.  I  do  remember  the  first  struggle  to  do 
right.  'Twas  on  the  little  bridge ;  and  there  I  balanced 
awhile,  'twixt  cheating  you  and  robbing  myself.  And  then, 
for  fear  you  would  not  marry  me,  I  dared  not  own  the  truth. 
Oh,  had  I  thought  you'd  only  keep  me  for  your  mistress,  I'd 
have  told  you  I  was  not  your  cousin.  Little  as  this  is, 
there's  surely  hope  in't.  Is  it  more  impossible  that  you, 
a  strong  man,  should  lift  me,  than  that  I,  a  weak  girl, — 
no  more  than  that,  —  should  drag  you  down?  " 
r"  I  did  not  weigh  my  words." 

"  Yet,  they  were  true,"  says  she.  "  'Tis  bred  in  my  body 
—  part  of  my  nature,  this  spirit  of  evil,  and  'twill  exist  as 


CONSEQUENCES    CLEARLY    FORESEEN    BY    MOLL.       263 

long  as  I.  For,  even  now,  I  do  feel  that  I  would  do  this 
wickedness  again,  and  worse,  to  win  you  once  more." 

"  My  poor  wife,"  says  he,  touched  with  pity ;  and  holding 
forth  his  arms,  she  goes  to  them  and  lays  her  cheek  against 
his  breast,  and  there  stands  crying  very  silently  with  mingled 
thoughts  —  now  of  the  room  she  had  prepared  with  such 
delight  against  his  return,  of  her  little  table  in  the  corner, 
with  the  chiney  image  atop,  and  other  trifles  with  which  she 
had  dreamed  to  give  him  pleasure  —  all  lost !  No  more 
would  she  sit  by  his  side  there  watching,  with  wonder  and 
pride,  the  growth  of  beauty  'neath  his  dexterous  hand  ;  and 
then  she  feels  that  'tis  compassion,  not  love,  that  hath 
opened  his  arms  to  her,  that  she  hath  killed  his  respect  for 
her,  and  with  it  his  love.  And  so,  stifling  the  sobs  that  rise 
in  her  throat,  she  weeps  on,  till  her  tears  trickling  from  her 
cheek  fall  upon  his  hand. 

The  icy  barrier  of  resentment  is  melted  by  the  first  warm 
tear,  —  this  silent  testimony  of  her  smothered  grief,  —  and 
bursting  from  the  bonds  of  reason,  he  yields  to  the  passion- 
ate impulse  of  his  heart,  and  clasping  this  poor  sorrowing 
wife  to  his  breast,  he  seeks  to  kiss  away  the  tears  from  her 
cheek,  and  soothe  her  with  gentle  words.  She  responds  to 
his  passion,  kiss  for  kiss,  as  she  clasps  her  hands  about  his 
head ;  but  still  her  tears  flow  on,  for  with  her  readier  wit 
she  perceives  that  this  is  but  the  transport  of  passion  on  his 
side,  and  not  the  untaxed  outcome  of  enduring  love,  prov- 
ing again  the  truth  of  his  unmeditated  prophecy ;  for  how 
can  he  stand  who  yields  so  quickly  to  the  first  assault,  and 
if  he  cannot  stand,  how  can  he  raise  her  ?  Surely  and  more 
surely,  little  by  little,  they  must  sink  together  to  some  lower 
depth,  and  one  day,  thinks  she,  repeating  his  words,  "We 


264  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

may  chat  easily  upon  this  villany  and  regret  we  went  no 
further  in  it." 

Mr.  Godwin  leads  her  to  the  adjoining  chamber,  which 
had  been  his,  and  says  : 

"  Lie  down,  love.  To-morrow  we  shall  see  things  clearer, 
and  think  more  reasonably." 

"  Yes,"  says  she,  in  return,  "  more  reasonably,"  and  with 
that  she  does  his  bidding ;  and  he  returns  to  sit  before  the 
embers  and  meditate.  And  here  he  stays,  striving  in  vain  to 
bring  the  tumult  of  his  thoughts  to  some  coherent  shape,  until 
from  sheer  exhaustion  he  falls  into  a  kind  of  lethargy  of  sleep. 

Meanwhile,  Moll,  lying  in  the  dark,  had  been  thinking 
also,  but  (as  women  will  at  such  times)  with  clearer  per- 
ception, so  that  her  ideas  forming  in  logical  sequence,  and 
growing  more  clear  and  decisive  (as  an  argument  becomes 
more  lively  and  conclusive  by  successful  reasoning)  served 
to  stimulate  her  intellect  and  excite  her  activity.  And  the 
end  of  it  was  that  she  rose  quickly  from  her  bed  and  looked 
into  the  next  room,  where  she  saw  her  husband  sitting,  with 
his  chin  upon  his  breast  and  his  hands  folded  upon  his  knee 
before  the  dead  fire.  Then  wrapping  his  cloak  about  her, 
she  steals  toward  the  outer  door ;  but  passing  him  she  must 
needs  pause  at  his  back  to  staunch  her  tears  a  moment,  and 
look  down  upon  him  for  the  last  time.  The  light  shines  in 
his  brown  hair,  and  she  bending  down  till  her  lips  touch  a 
stray  curl,  they  part  silently,  and  she  breathes  upon  him  from 
her  very  soul,  a  mute  "  Fare  thee  well,  dear  love." 

But  she  will  wait  no  longer,  fearing  her  courage  may  give 
way,  and  the  next  minute  she  is  out  in  the  night,  softly 
drawing  the  door  to  that  separates  these  two  for  ever. 


CHAPTER   XXXII. 

Plow  we  fought  a  most  bloody  battle  with   Simon,  the  constable,  and 

others. 

FOR  some  time  we  spoke  never  a  word,  Dawson  and  I,  — 
he  with  his  head  lying  on  his  arm,  I  seated  in  a  chair  with 
my  hands  hanging  down  by  my  side,  quite  stunned  by  the 
blow  that  had  fallen  upon  us.  At  length,  raising  his  head, 
his  eyes  puffed,  and  his  face  bedaubed  with  tears,  he  says  : 

"  Han't  you  a  word  of  comfort,  Kit,  for  a  broken-hearted 
man?" 

I  stammered  a  few  words  that  had  more  sound  than 
sense ;  but  indeed  I  needed  consolation  myself,  seeing  my 
own  responsibility  for  bringing  this  misfortune  upon  Moll, 
and  being  most  heartily  ashamed  of  my  roguery  now  'twas 
discovered. 

"You  don't  think  he'll  be  too  hard  on  poor  Moll,  tell  me 
that,  Kit?" 

"  Aye,  he'll  forgive  her,"  says  I,  "  sooner  than  us,  or  we 
ourselves." 

"  And  you  don't  think  he'll  be  for  ever  a-casting  it  in  her 
teeth  that  her  father's  a  —  a  drunken  vagabond,  eh?" 

"  Nay ;  I  believe  he  is  too  good  a  man  for  that." 

"Then,"  says  he,  standing  up,  "I'll  go  and  tell  him  the 
whole  story,  and  you  shall  come  with  me  to  bear  me  out." 

"  To-morrow  will  be  time  enough,"  says  I,  flinching  from 
this  office;  "'tis  late  now." 

265 


266  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"  No  matter  for  that.  Time  enough  to  sleep  when  we've 
settled  this  business.  We'll  not  leave  poor  Moll  to  bear  all 
the  punishment  of  our  getting.  Mr.  Godwin  shall  know 
what  an  innocent,  simple  child  she  was  when  we  pushed 
her  into  this  knavery,  and  how  we  dared  not  tell  her  of 
our  purpose  lest  she  should  draw  back.  He  shall  know 
how  she  was  ever  an  obedient,  docile,  artless  girl,  yielding 
always  to  my  guidance  ;  and  you  can  stretch  a  point,  Kit,  to 
say  you  have  ever  known  me  for  a  headstrong,  masterful 
sort  of  a  fellow,  who  would  take  denial  from  none,  but  must 
have  my  own  way  in  all  things.  I'll  take  all  the  blame  on 
my  own  shoulders,  as  I  should  have  done  at  first,  but  I  was 
so  staggered  by  this  fall." 

"  Well,"  says  I,  "  if  you  will  have  it  so  —  " 

"  I  will,"  says  he,  stoutly.  "  And  now  give  me  a  bucket 
of  water  that  I  may  souse  my  head,  and  wear  a  brave  look. 
I  would  have  him  think  the  worst  of  me  that  he  may 
feel  the  kinder  to  poor  Moll.  And  I'll  make  what  atone- 
ment I  can,"  adds  he,  as  I  led  him  into  my  bed-chamber. 
"  If  he  desire  it,  I  will  promise  never  to  see  Moll  again ; 
nay,  I  will  offer  to  take  the  king's  bounty,  and  go  a-sailoring ; 
and  so,  betwixt  sickness  and  the  Dutch,  there'll  be  an  end 
of  Jack  Dawson  in  a  very  short  space." 

When  he  had  ducked  his  head  in  a  bowl  of  water,  and 
got  our  cloaks  from  the  room  below,  we  went  to  the  door, 
and  there,  to  my  dismay,  I  found  the  lock  fast  and  the 
key  which  I  had  left  in  its  socket  gone. 

"What's  amiss,  Kit?"  asks  Dawson,  perceiving  my 
consternation. 

"The  key,  the  key  !"  says  I,  holding  the  candle  here  and 
there  to  seek  it  on  the  floor,  then,  giving  up  my  search  as 


WE   ARE    SHUT    IN    A    TRAP.  267 

it  struck  me  that  Mr.  Godwin  and  Moll  could  not  have  left 
the  house  had  the  door  been  locked  on  the  inside ;  "  I 
do  believe  we  are  locked  in  and  made  prisoners,"  says  I. 

"  Why,  sure,  this  is  not  Mr.  Godwin's  doing  !  "  cries  he. 

"  'Tis  Simon,"  says  I,  with  conviction,  seeing  him  again 
in  my  mind,  standing  behind  Mr.  Godwin,  with  wicked 
triumph  in  his  face, 

" Is  there  no  other  door  but  this  one? "  asks  Dawson. 

"  There  is  one  at  the  back,  but  I  have  never  yet  opened 
that,  for  lack  of  a  key."  And  now  setting  one  thing  against 
another,  and  recalling  how  I  had  before  found  the  door 
open,  when  I  felt  sure  I  had  locked  it  fast,  the  truth  ap- 
peared to  me  ;  namely,  that  Simon  had  that  key  and  did  get 
in  the  back  way,  going  out  by  the  front  on  that  former  occa- 
sion in  haste  upon  some  sudden  alarm. 

"Is  there  never  a  window  we  can  slip  through?"  asks 
Jack. 

"  Only  those  above  stairs  ;  the  lower  are  all  barred." 

"  A  fig  for  his  bars.  Does  he  think  we  have  neither  hands 
nor  wits  to  be  hindered  by  this  silly  woman's  trick?  " 

"'Tis  no  silly  trick.  He's  not  the  man  to  do  an  idle 
thing.  There's  mischief  in  this." 

"What  mischief  can  he  do  us  more  than  he  has  done?  — 
for  I  see  his  hand  in  our  misfortune.  What  mischief,  I  say? 
—  out  with  it,  man,  for  your  looks  betray  a  fear  of  something 
worse." 

"  Faith,  Jack,  I  dread  he  has  gone  to  fetch  help  and  will 
lodge  us  in  gaol  for  this  business." 

"Gaol !"  cries  he,  in  a  passion  of  desperation.  "Why, 
this  will  undo  Moll  for  ever.  Her  husband  can  never  forgive 
her  putting  such  shame  upon  him.  Rouse  yourself,  man, 


268  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

from  your  stupor.  Get  me  something  in  the  shape  of  a 
hammer,  for  God's  sake,  that  we  may  burst  our  way  from 
this  accursed  trap." 

I  bethought  me  of  an  axe  for  splitting  wood,  that  lay  in 
the  kitchen,  and  fetching  it  quickly,  I  put  it  in  his  hand. 
Bidding  me  stand  aside,  he  let  fly  at  the  door  like  a  mad- 
man. The  splinters  flew,  but  the  door  held  good  ;  and 
when  he  stayed  a  moment  to  take  a  new  grip  on  his  axe, 
I  heard  a  clamour  of  voices  outside  —  Simon's,  higher  than 
the  rest,  crying,  "My  new  door,  that  cost  me  seven  and 
eightpence  ! " 

"  The  lock,  the  lock  !  "  says  I.     "  Strike  that  off." 

Down  came  the  axe,  striking  a  spark  of  fire  from  the 
lock,  which  fell  with  a  clatter  at  the  next  blow ;  but  ere  we 
had  time  to  open  the  door,  Simon  and  his  party,  entering 
by  the  back  door,  forced  us  to  turn  for  our  defence.  Per- 
ceiving Dawson  armed  with  an  axe,  however,  these  fellows 
paused,  and  the  leader,  whom  I  recognised  for  the  constable 
of  our  parish,  carrying  a  staff  in  one  hand  and  a  lanthorn 
in  t'other,  cried  to  us  in  the  king's  name  to  surrender 
ourselves. 

"Take  us,  if  you  can,"  cries  Dawson;  "and  the  Lord 
have  mercy  on  the  first  who  comes  within  my  reach  ! " 

Deftly  enough,  old  Simon,  snatching  the  fellow's  cap 
who  stood  next  him,  flings  it  at  the  candle  that  stands  flaring 
on  the  floor,  and  justles  the  constable's  lanthorn  from  his 
hand,  so  that  in  a  moment  we  were  all  in  darkness.  Taking 
us  at  this  disadvantage  (for  Dawson  dared  not  lay  about 
him  with  his  axe,  for  fear  of  hitting  me  by  misadventure), 
the  rascals  closed  at  once ;  and  a  most  bloody,  desperate 
fight  ensued.  For,  after  the  first  onslaught,  in  which 


VERY  BLOODY  BUSINESS.  269 

Dawson  (dropping  his  axe,  as  being  useless  at  such  close 
quarters)  and  I  grappled  each  our  man,  the  rest,  knowing 
not  friend  from  foe  in  the  obscurity,  and  urged  on  by  fear, 
fell  upon  each  other,  —  this  one  striking  out  at  the  first  he 
met,  and  that  giving  as  good  as  he  had  taken,  —  and  so  all 
fell  a-mauling  and  belabouring  with  such  lust  of  vengeance 
that  presently  the  whole  place  was  of  an  uproar  with  the 
din  of  cursing,  howling,  and  hard  blows.  For  my  own  lot 
I  had  old  Simon  to  deal  with,  as  I  knew  at  once  by  the 
cold,  greasy  feel  of  his  leathern  jerkin,  he  being  enraged 
to  make  me  his  prisoner  for  the  ill  I  had  done  him. 
Hooking  his  horny  fingers  about  my  throat,  he  clung  to 
me  like  any  wildcat ;  but  stumbling,  shortly,  over  two  who 
were  rolling  on  the  floor,  we  went  down  both  with  a  crack, 
and  with  such  violence  that  he,  being  undermost,  was 
stunned  by  the  fall.  Then,  my  blood  boiling  at  this  treat- 
ment, I  got  astride  of  him,  and  roasted  his  ribs  royally,  and 
with  more  force  than  ever  I  had  conceived  myself  to  be 
possessed  of.  And,  growing  beside  myself  with  this  passion 
of  war,  I  do  think  I  should  have  pounded  him  into  a  pulp, 
but  that  two  other  combatants,  falling  across  me  with  their 
whole  weight,  knocked  all  the  wind  out  of  my  body,  op- 
pressing me  so  grievously,  that  'twas  as  much  as  I  could 
do  to  draw  myself  out  of  the  fray,  and  get  a  gasp  of  breath 
again. 

About  this  time  the  uproar  began  to  subside,  for  those 
who  had  got  the  worst  of  the  battle  thought  it  advisable  to 
sneak  out  of  the  house  for  safety,  and  those  who  had  fared 
better,  fearing  a  reverse  of  fortune,  counted  they  had  done 
enough  for  this  bout,  and  so  also  withdrew. 

"  Are  you  living,  Kit?  "  asks  Dawson,  then. 


2/O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"  Aye,"  says  I,  as  valiantly  as  you  please,  "  and  ready 
to  fight  another  half-dozen  such  rascals,"  but  pulling  the 
broken  door  open,  all  the  same,  to  get  out  the  easier,  in 
case  they  returned. 

"Why,  then,  let's  go,"  says  he,  "unless  any  is  minded  to 
have  us  stay." 

No  one  responding  to  this  challenge,  we  made  ado  to 
find  a  couple  of  hats  and  cloaks  for  our  use  and  sallied 
out. 

"Which  way  do  we  turn? "  asks  Dawson,  as  we  come  into 
the  road. 

"Whither  would  you  go,  Jack?  " 

"  Why,  to  warn  Moll  of  her  danger,  to  be  sure." 

I  apprehended  no  danger  to  her,  and  believed  her  husband 
would  defend  her  in  any  case  better  than  we  could,  but 
Dawson  would  have  it  we  should  warn  them,  and  so  we 
turned  towards  the  Court.  And  now  upon  examination  we 
found  we  had  come  very  well  out  of  this  fight;  for  save 
that  the  wound  in  Dawson' s  hand  had  been  opened  afresh, 
we  were  neither  much  the  worse. 

"But  let  us  set  our  best  foot  foremost,  Jack,"  says  I, 
"  for  I  do  think  we  have  done  more  mischief  to-night  than 
any  we  have  before,  and  I  shall  not  be  greatly  surprised  if 
we  are  called  to  account  for  the  death  of  old  Simon  or 
some  of  his  hirelings." 

"I  know  not  how  that  may  be,"  says  he,  "but  I  must 
answer  for  knocking  of  somebody's  teeth  out." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

We  take  Moll  to  Greenwich  ;  but  no  great  happiness  for  her  there. 

IN  the  midst  of  our  heroics  I  was  greatly  scared  by  per- 
ceiving a  cloaked  figure  coming  hurriedly  towards  us  in 
the  dim  light. 

"'Tis  another,  come  to  succour  his  friends,"  whispers 
I.  "Let  us  step  into  this  hedge." 

"Too  late,"  returns  he.  "Put  on  a  bold  face,  'tis  only 
one." 

With  a  swaggering  gait  and  looking  straight  before  us, 
we  had  passed  the  figure,  when  a  voice  calls  "  Father ! " 
and  there  turning,  we  find  that  'tis  poor  Moll  in  her 
husband's  cloak. 

"Where  is  thy  husband,  child?"  asks  Dawson,  as  he 
recovers  from  his  astonishment,  taking  Moll  by  the  hand. 

"I  have  no  husband,  father,"  answers  she,  piteously. 

"Why,  sure  he  hath  not  turned  you  out  of  doors?  " 

"No,  he'd  not  do  that,"  says  she,  "were  I  ten  times 
more  wicked  than  I  am." 

"What  folly  then  is  this?"  asks  her  father. 

"  'Tis  no  folly.  I  have  left  him  of  my  own  free  will, 
and  shall  never  go  back  to  him.  For  he's  no  more  my 
husband  than  that  house  is  mine  "  (pointing  to  the  Court). 
"Both  were  got  by  the  same  means,  and  both  are  lost." 

Then  briefly  she  told  how  they  had  been  turned  from  the 
271 


2/2  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

gate  by  Peter,  and  how  Mr.  Godwin  was  now  as  poor  and 
homeless  as  we.  And  this  news  throwing  us  into  a  silence 
with  new  bewilderment,  she  asks  us  simply  whither  we  are 
going. 

"My  poor  Moll!"  is  all  the  answer  Dawson  can  make, 
and  that  in  a  broken,  trembling  voice. 

"Tis  no  good  to  cry,"  says  she,  dashing  aside  he'r  tears 
that  had  sprung  at  this  word  of  loving  sympathy,  and  forc- 
ing herself  to  a  more  cheerful  tone.  "Why,  let  us  think 
that  we  are  just  awake  from  a  long  sleep  to  find  ourselves 
no  worse  off  than  when  we  fell  a-dreaming.  Nay,  not  so 
ill,"  adds  she,  "for  you  have  a  home  near  London.  Take 
me  there,  dear." 

"With  all  my  heart,  chuck,"  answers  her  father,  eagerly. 
"There,  at  least,  I  can  give  you  a  shelter  till  your  husband 
can  offer  better." 

She  would  not  dispute  this  point  (though  I  perceived 
clearly  her  mind  was  resolved  fully  never  to  claim  her 
right  to  Mr.  Godwin's  roof),  but  only  begged  we  should 
hasten  on  our  way,  saying  she  felt  chilled;  and  in  passing 
Mother  Fitch's  cottage  she  constrained  us  to  silence  and 
caution;  then  when  we  were  safely  past  she  would  have 
us  run,  still  feigning  to  be  cold,  but  in  truth  (as  I  think) 
to  avoid  being  overtaken  by  Mr.  Godwin,  fearing,  maybe, 
that  he  would  overrule  her  will.  This  way  we  sped  till 
Moll  was  fain  to  stop  with  a  little  cry  of  pain,  and  clap- 
ping her  hand  to  her  heart,  being  fairly  spent  and  out  of 
breath.  Then  we  took  her  betwixt  us,  lending  her  our 
arms  for  support,  and  falling  into  a  more  regular  pace 
made  good  progress.  We  trudged  on  till  we  reached 
Croydon  without  any  accident,  save  that  at  one  point, 


COME  ALL  THREE  TO  GREENWICH.       2/3 

Moll's  step  faltering  and  she  with  a  faint  sob  weighing 
heavily  upon  our  arms,  we  stopped,  as  thinking  her  strength 
overtaxed,  and  then  glancing  about  me  I  perceived  we  were 
upon  that  little  bridge  where  we  had  overtaken  Mr.  Godwin 
and  he  had  offered  to  make  Moll  his  wife.  Then  I  knew 
'twas  not  fatigue  that  weighed  her  down,  and  gauging  her 
feelings  by  my  own  remorse,  I  pitied  this  poor  wife  even 
more  than  I  blamed  myself;  for  had  she  revealed  herself 
to  him  at  that  time,  though  he  might  have  shrunk  from 
marriage,  he  must  have  loved  her  still,  and  so  she  had 
been  spared  this  shame  and  hopeless  sorrow. 

At  Croydon  we  overtook  a  carrier  on  his  way  to  London 
for  the  Saturday  market,  who  for  a  couple  of  shillings  gave 
us  a  place  in  his  waggon  with  some  good  bundles  of  hay 
for  a  seat,  and  here  was  rest  for  our  tired  bodies  (though 
little  for  our  tormented  minds)  till  we  reached  Marsh  End, 
where  we  were  set  down;  and  so,  the  ground  being  hard 
with  frost,  across  the  Marsh  to  Greenwich  about  daybreak. 
Having  the  key  of  his  workshop  with  him,  Dawson  took  us 
into  his  lodgings  without  disturbing  the  other  inmates  of 
the  house  (who  might  well  have  marvelled  to  see  us  enter 
at  this  hour  with  a  woman  in  a  man's  cloak,  and  no  cover- 
ing but  a  handkerchief  to  her  head),  and  Moll  taking  his 
bed,  we  disposed  ourselves  on  some  shavings  in  his  shop  to 
get  a  little  sleep. 

Dawson  was  already  risen  when  I  awoke,  and  going  into 
his  little  parlour,  I  found  him  mighty  busy  setting  the 
place  in  order,  which  was  in  a  sad  bachelor's  pickle,  to  be 
sure  —  all  littered  up  with  odds  and  ends  of  turning, 
unwashed  plates,  broken  victuals,  etc.,  just  as  he  had 
left  it. 

T 


2/4  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"She's  asleep,"  says  he,  in  a  whisper.  "And  I'd  have 
this  room  like  a  little  palace  against  she  comes  into  it,  so 
do  you  lend  me  a  hand,  Kit,  and  make  no  more  noise  than 
you  can  help.  The  kitchen's  through  that  door;  carry 
everything  in  there,  and  what's  of  no  use  fling  out  of  the 
window  into  the  road." 

Setting  to  with  a  will,  we  got  the  parlour  and  kitchen 
neat  and  proper,  plates  washed,  tiles  wiped,  pots  and  pans 
hung  up,  furniture  furbished  up,  and  everything  in  its 
place  in  no  time;  then  leaving  me  to  light  a  fire  in  the 
parlour,  Dawson  goes  forth  a-marketing,  with  a  basket  on 
his  arm,  in  high  glee.  And  truly  to  see  the  pleasure  in 
his  face  later  on,  making  a  mess  of  bread  and  milk  in  one 
pipkin  and  cooking  eggs  in  another  (for  now  we  heard 
Moll  stirring  in  her  chamber),  one  would  have  thought  that 
this  was  an  occasion  for  rejoicing  rather  than  grief,  and 
this  was  due  not  to  want  of  kind  feeling,  but  to  the  fond, 
simple  nature  of  him,  he  being  manly  enough  in  some 
ways,  but  a  very  child  in  others.  He  did  never  see  further 
than  his  nose  (as  one  says),  and  because  it  gave  him  joy 
to  have  Moll  beside  him  once  more,  he  must  needs  think 
hopefully,  that  she  will  quickly  recover  from  this  reverse 
of  fortune,  and  that  all  will  come  right  again. 

Our  dear  Moll  did  nothing  to  damp  his  hopes,  but 
played  her  part  bravely  and  well  to  spare  him  the  anguish 
of  remorse  that  secretly  wrung  her  own  heart.  She  met  us 
with  a  cheerful  countenance,  admired  the  neatness  of  the 
parlour,  the  glowing  fire,  ate  her  share  of  porridge,  and 
finding  the  eggs  cooked  hard,  declared  she  could  not 
abide  them  soft.  Then  she  would  see  her  father  work  his 
lathe  (to  his  great  delight),  and  begged  he  would  make 


MOLL    VASTLY    BRAVE.  2/5 

her  some  cups  for  eggs,  as  being  more  to  our  present  fash- 
ion than  eating  them  from  one's  hand. 

"Why,"  says  he,  "there's  an  old  bed-post  in  the  corner 
that  will  serve  me  to  a  nicety.  But  first  I  must  see  our 
landlord  and  engage  a  room  for  Kit  and  me;  for  I  take  it, 
my  dear, "  adds  he,  "  you  will  be  content  to  stay  with  us  here. " 

"Yes,"  answers  she,  "'tis  a  most  cheerful  view  of  the 
river  from  the  windows." 

She  tucked  up  her  skirt  and  sleeves  to  busy  herself  in 
household  matters,  and  when  I  would  have  relieved  her  of 
this  office,  she  begged  me  to  go  and  bear  her  father  com- 
pany, saying  with  a  piteous  look  in  her  eyes  that  we  must 
leave  her  some  occupation  or  she  should  weary.  She  was 
pale,  there  were  dark  lines  beneath  her  eyes,  and  she  was 
silent;  but  I  saw  no  outward  sign  of  grief  till  the  after- 
noon, when,  coming  from  Jack's  shop  unexpected,  I  spied 
her  sitting  by  the  window,  with  her  face  in  her  hands, 
bowed  over  a  piece  of  cloth  we  had  bought  in  the  morn- 
ing, which  she  was  about  to  fashion  into  a  plain  gown,  as 
being  more  suitable  to  her  condition  than  the  rich  dress  in 
which  she  had  left  the  Court. 

"Poor  soul !  "  thinks  I;  "here  is  a  sad  awaking  from  thy 
dream  of  riches  and  joy." 

Upon  a  seasonable  occasion  I  told  Dawson  we  must 
soon  begin  to  think  of  doing  something  for  a  livelihood  — 
a  matter  which  was  as  remote  from  his  consideration  as  the 
day  of  wrath. 

"Why,  Kit,"  says  he,  "I've  as  good  as  fifty  pounds  yet 
in  a  hole  at  the  chimney  back." 

"Aye,  but  when  that's  gone  —  "  says  I. 

"That's  a  good  way  hence,   Kit,   but  there  never  was 


2/6  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

such  a  man  as  you  for  going  forth  to  meet  troubles  half 
way.  However,  I  warrant  I  shall  find  some  jobs  of  car- 
pentry to  keep  us  from  begging  our  bread  when  the  pinch 
comes." 

Not  content  to  wait  for  this  pinch,  I  resolved  I  would  go 
into  the  city  and  enquire  there  if  the  booksellers  could 
give  me  any  employment  —  thinking  I  might  very  well 
write  some  good  sermons  on  honesty,  now  I  had  learnt  the 
folly  of  roguery.  Hearing  of  my  purpose  the  morning  I 
was  about  to  go,  Moll  takes  me  aside  and  asks  me  in  a 
quavering  voice  if  I  knew  where  Mr.  Godwin  might  be 
found.  This  question  staggered  me  a  moment,  for  her 
husband's  name  had  not  been  spoken  by  any  of  us  since 
the  catastrophe,  and  it  came  into  my  mind  now  that  she 
designed  to  return  to  him,  and  I  stammered  out  some  fool- 
ish hint  at  Hurst  Court. 

"  No,  he  is  not  there,"  says  she,  "  but  I  thought  maybe 
that  Sir  Peter  Lely  —  " 

"  Aye,"  says  I ;  "  he  will  most  likely  know  where  Mr. 
Godwin  may  be  found." 

"  Can  you  tell  me  where  Sir  Peter  lives?  " 

"  No ;  but  I  can  learn  easily  when  I  am  in  the  city." 

"  If  you  can,  write  the  address  and  send  him  this,"  says 
she,  drawing  a  letter  from  her  breast.  She  had  writ  her  hus- 
band's name  on  it,  and  now  she  pressed  her  lips  to  it  twice, 
and  putting  the  warm  letter  in  my  hand,  she  turned  away, 
her  poor  mouth  twitching  with  smothered  grief.  I  knew 
then  that  there  was  no  thought  in  her  mind  of  seeing  her 
husband  again. 

I  carried  the  letter  with  me  to  the  city,  wondering  what 
was  in  it.  I  know  not  now,  yet  I  think  it  contained  but  a 


GATHER    NEWS    OF    MR.    GODWIN. 


few  words  of  explanation  and  farewell,  with  some  prayer, 
maybe,  that  she  might  be  forgiven  and  forgotten. 

Learning  where  Sir  Peter  Lely  lived,  I  myself  went  to  his 
house,  and  he  not  being  at  home,  I  asked  his  servant  if  Mr. 
Godwin  did  sometimes  come  there. 

"Why,  yes,  sir,  he  was  here  but  yesterday,"  answers  he. 
"  Indeed,  never  a  day  passes  but  he  calls  to  ask  if  any  one 
hath  sought  him." 

"  In  that  case,"  says  I,  slipping  a  piece  in  his  ready  hand, 
and  fetching  out  Moll's  letter,  "  you  will  give  him  this  when 
he  comes  next." 

"  That  I  will,  sir,  and  without  fail.  But  if  you  would  see 
him,  sir,  he  bids  me  say  he  is  ever  at  his  lodging  in  Holborn, 
from  five  in  the  evening  to  eight  in  the  morning." 

"  Twill  answer  all  ends  if  you  give  him  that  letter.  He 
is  in  good  health,  I  hope." 

"Well,  sir,  he  is  and  he  isn't,  as  you  may  say,"  answers 
he,  dropping  into  a  familiar,  confidential  tone  after  casting 
his  eye  over  me  to  be  sure  I  was  no  great  person..  "  He 
ails  nothing,  to  be  sure,  for  I  hear  he  is  ever  afoot  from  morn 
till  even  a-searching  hither  and  thither  ;  but  a  more  down- 
hearted, rueful  looking  gentleman  for  his  age  I  never  see. 
Twixt  you  and  me,  sir,  I  think  he  hath  lost  his  sweetheart, 
seeing  I  am  charged,  with  Sir  Peter's  permission,  to  follow 
and  not  lose  sight  of  any  lady  who  may  chance  to  call  here 
for  him." 

I  walked  back  to  Greenwich  across  the  fields,  debating  in 
my  mind  whether  I  should  tell  Moll  of  her  husband's  dis- 
tress or  not,  so  perplexed  with  conflicting  arguments  that  I 
had  come  to  no  decision  when  I  reached  home. 


278  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

Moll  spying  me  coming,  from  her  window  in  the  front  of 
the  house,  met  me  at  the  door,  in  her  cloak  and  hood,  and 
begged  I  would  take  her  a  little  turn  over  the  heath. 

"What  have  you  to  tell  me?"  asks  she,  pressing  my  arm 
as  we  walked  on. 

"  I  have  given  your  letter  to  Sir  Peter  Lely's  servant,  who 
promises  to  deliver  it  faithfully  to  your  husband." 

u  Well,"  says  she,  after  a  little  pause  of  silence,  "  that  is 
not  all." 

"  You  will  be  glad  to  know  that  he  is  well  in  health,"  says 
I,  and  then  I  stop  again,  all  hanging  in  a  hedge  for  not 
knowing  whether  it  were  wiser  to  speak  or  hold  my  tongue. 

"  There  is  something  else.  I  see  it  in  your  face.  Hide 
nothing  from  me  for  love's  sake,"  says  she,  piteously. 
Whereupon,  my  heart  getting  the  better  of  my  head  (which, 
to  be  sure,  was  no  great  achievement),  I  told  all  as  I  have 
set  it  down  here. 

"  My  dear,  dear  love  !  my  darling  Dick  ! "  says  she,  in 
the  end.  And  then  she  would  have  it  told  all  over  again, 
with  a  thousand  questions,  to  draw  forth  more ;  and  these 
being  exhausted,  she  asks  why  I  would  have  concealed  so 
much  from  her,  and  if  I  did  fear  she  would  seek  him. 

"  Nay,  my  dear,"  says  I ;  "  'tis  t'other  way  about.  For  if 
your  husband  does  forgive  you,  and  yearns  but  to  take  you 
back  into  his  arms,  it  would  be  an  unnatural,  cruel  thing  to 
keep  you  apart.  Therefore,  to  confess  the  whole  truth,  I 
did  meditate  going  to  him  and  showing  how  we  and  not  you 
are  to  blame  in  this  matter,  and  then  telling  him  where  he 
might  find  you,  if  on  reflection  he  felt  that  he  could  honestly 
hold  you  guiltless.  But  ere  I  do  that  (as  I  see  now),  I 
must  know  if  you  are  willing  to  this  accommodation  ;  for  if 


MOLL    MUCH    PERPLEXED.  279 

you  are  not,  then  are  our  wounds  all  opened  afresh  to  no 
purpose,  but  to  retard  their  healing." 

She  made  no  reply  nor  any  comment  for  a  long  time,  nor 
did  I  seek  to  bias  her  judgment  by  a  single  word  (doubting 
my  wisdom) .  But  I  perceived  by  the  quivering  of  her  arm 
within  mine  that  a  terrible  conflict  'twixt  passion  and  princi- 
ple was  convulsing  every  fibre  of  her  being.  At  the  top  of 
the  hill  above  Greenwich  she  stopped,  and,  throwing  back 
her  hood,  let  the  keen  wind  blow  upon  her  face,  as  she 
gazed  over  the  grey  flats  beyond  the  river.  And  the  air 
seeming  to  give  her  strength  and  a  clearer  perception,  she 
says,  presently : 

"Accommodation  !  "  (And  she  repeats  this  unlucky  word 
of  mine  twice  or  thrice,  as  if  she  liked  it  less  each  time.) 
"  That  means  we  shall  agree  to  let  bygones  be  bygones,  and 
do  our  best  to  get  along  together  for  the  rest  of  our  lives  as 
easily  as  we  may." 

"That's  it,  my  dear,"  says  I,  cheerfully. 

"Hush  up  the  past,"  continues  she,  in  the  same  calculat- 
ing tone ;  "  conceal  it  from  the  world,  if  possible.  Invent 
some  new  lie  to  deceive  the  curious,  and  hoodwink  our 
decent  friends.  Chuckle  at  our  success,  and  come  in  time  " 
(here  she  paused  a  moment)  "to  'chat  so  lightly  of  our 
past  knavery,  that  we  could  wish  we  had  gone  farther  in 
the  business.'  "  Then  turning  about  to  me,  she  asks  :  "  If 
you  were  writing  the  story  of  my  life  for  a  play,  would  you 
end  it  thus?" 

"My  dear,"  says  I,  "a  play's  one  thing,  real  life's  an- 
other; and  believe  me,  as  far  as  my  experience  goes  of  real 
life,  the  less  heroics  there  are  in  it  the  better  parts  are 
those  for  the  actors  in't." 


28O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

She  shook  her  head  fiercely  in  the  wind,  and,  turning 
about  with  a  brusque  vigour,  cries,  "Come  on.  I'll  have 
no  accommodation.  And  yet,"  says  she,  stopping  short 
after  a  couple  of  hasty  steps,  and  with  a  fervent  earnestness 
in  her  voice,  "and  yet,  if  I  could  wipe  out  this  stain,  if 
by  any  act  I  could  redeem  my  fault,  God  knows,  I'd  do  it, 
cost  what  it  might,  to  be  honoured  once  again  by  my  dear 
Dick." 

"This  comes  of  living  in  a  theatre  all  her  life,"  thinks 
I.  And  indeed,  in  this,  as  in  other  matters  yet  to  be  told, 
the  teaching  of  the  stage  was  but  tpo  evident. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

All  agree  to  go  out  to  Spain  again  in  search  of  our  old  jollity. 

ANOTHER  week  passed  by,  and  then  Dawson,  short- 
sighted as  he  was  in  his  selfishness,  began  to  perceive  that 
things  were  not  coming  all  right,  as  he  had  expected. 
Once  or  twice  when  I  went  into  his  shop,  I  caught  him 
sitting  idle  before  his  lathe,  with  a  most  woe-begone  look 
in  his  face. 

"What's  amiss,  Jack?"  asks  I,  one  day  when  I  found 
him  thus. 

He  looked  to  see  that  the  door  was  shut,  and  then  says 
he,  gloomily: 

"She  don't  sing  as  she  used  to,  Kit;  she  don't  laugh 
hearty." 

I  hunched  my  shoulders. 

"She  doesn't  play  us  any  of  her  old  pranks,"  continues 
he.  "She  don't  say  one  thing  and  go  and  do  t'other 
the  next  moment,  as  she  used  to  do.  She's  too  good." 

What  could  I  say  to  one  who  was  fond  enough  to  think 
that  the  summer  would  come  back  at  his  wish  and  last  for 
ever? 

"She's  not  the  same,  Kit,"  he  goes  on.  "No,  not  by 
twenty  years.  One  would  say  she  is  older  than  I  am,  yet 
she's  scarce  the  age  of  woman.  And  I  do  see  she  gets  more 
pale  and  thin  each  day.  D'ye  think  she's  fretting  for 
him?  " 

28! 


282  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"Like  enough,  Jack,"  says  I.  "What would  you?  He's 
her  husband,  and  'tis  as  if  he  was  dead  to  her.  She  can- 
not be  a  maid  again.  'Tis  young  to  be  a  widow,  and  no 
hope  of  being  wife  ever  more." 

"God  forgive  me,"  says  he,  hanging  his  head. 

"We  did  it  for  the  best,"  says  I.  "We  could  not  foresee 
this." 

"  'Twas  so  natural  to  think  we  should  be  happy  again 
being  all  together.  Howsoever,"  adds  he,  straightening 
himself  with  a  more  manful  vigour,  "we  will  do  something 
to  chase  these  black  dogs  hence." 

On  his  lathe  was  the  egg  cup  he  had  been  turning  for 
Moll;  he  snapped  it  off  from  the  chuck  and  flung  it  in  the 
litter  of  chips  and  shavings,  as  if  'twere  the  emblem  of  his 
past  folly. 

It  so  happened  that  night  that  Moll  could  eat  no  supper, 
pleading  for  her  excuse  that  she  felt  sick. 

"What  is  it,  chuck?"  says  Jack,  setting  down  his  knife 
and  drawing  his  chair  beside  Moll's. 

"The  vapours,  I  think,"  says  she,  with  a  faint  smile. 

"Nay,"  says  he,  slipping  his  arm  about  her  waist  and 
drawing  her  to  him.  "My  Moll  hath  no  such  modish 
humours.  'Tis  something  else.  I  have  watched  ye, 
and  do  perceive  you  eat  less  and  less.  Tell  us  what 
ails  you." 

"Well,  dear,"  says  she,  "I  do-believe  'tis  idleness  is  the 
root  of  my  disorder." 

"Idleness  was  never  wont  to  have  this  effect  on  you." 

"But  it  does  now  that  I  am  grown  older.  There's  not 
enough  to  do.  If  I  could  find  some  occupation  for  my 
thoughts,  I  should  not  be  so  silly." 


MOLL    STRANGELY    MOVED.  283 

"Why,  that's  a  good  thought.  What  say  you,  dear,  shall 
we  go  a-play-acting  again?  " 

Moll  shook  her  head. 

"To  be  sure,"  says  he,  scratching  his  jaw,  "we  come 
out  of  that  business  with  no  great  encouragement  to  go  fur- 
ther in  it.  But  times  are  mended  since  then,  and  I  do 
hear  the  world  is  more  mad  for  diversion  now  than  ever 
they  were  before  the  Plague." 

"No,  dear,"  says  Moll,  "'tis  of  no  use  to  think  of  that. 
I  couldn't  play  now." 

After  this  we  sat  silent  awhile,  looking  into  the  embers; 
then  Jack,  first  to  give  expression  to  his  thoughts,  says : 

"  I  think  you  were  never  so  happy  in  your  life,  Moll,  as 
that  time  we  were  in  Spain,  nor  can  I  recollect  ever  feeling 
so  free  from  care  myself, —  after  we  got  out  of  the  hands 
of  that  gentleman  robber.  There's  a  sort  of  infectious 
brightness  in  the  sun,  and  the  winds,  blow  which  way  they 
may,  do  chase  away  dull  thoughts  and  dispose  one  to 
jollity;  eh,  sweetheart?  Why,  we  met  never  a  tattered 
vagabond  on  the  road  but  he  was  halloing  of  ditties, 
and  a  kinder,  more  hospitable  set  of  people  never  lived. 
With  a  couple  of  rials  in  your  pocket,  you  feel  as  rich 
and  independent  as  with  an  hundred  pounds  in  your  hand 
elsewhere." 

At  this  point  Moll,  who  had  hitherto  listened  in  apathy 
to  these  eulogies,  suddenly  pushing  back  her  chair,  looks 
at  us  with  a  strange  look  in  her  eyes,  and  says  under  her 
breath,  "Elche!" 

"Barcelony  for  my  money,"  responds  Dawson,  whose 
memories  of  Elche  were  not  so  cheerful  as  of  those  parts 
where  we  had  led  a  more  vagabond  life. 


284  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"Elche!"  repeats  Moll,  twining  her  fingers,  and  with  a 
smile  gleaming  in  her  eyes. 

"Does  it  please  you,  chuck,  to  talk  of  these  matters?  " 

"Yes,  yes!"  returns  she,  eagerly.  "You  know  not  the 
joy  it  gives  me  "  (clapping  her  hand  on  her  heart).  "Talk 
on." 

Mightily  pleased  with  himself,  her  father  goes  over  our 
past  adventures, —  the  tricks  Moll  played  us,  as  buying  of 
her  petticoat  while  we  were  hunting  for  her,  our  excel- 
lent entertainment  in  the  mountain  villages,  our  lying 
abed  all  one  day,  and  waking  at  sundown  to  think  it  was 
daybreak,  our  lazy  days  and  jovial  nights,  etc.,  at  great 
length;  and  when  his  memory  began  to  give  out,  giving 
me  a  kick  of  the  shin,  he  says : 

"Han't  you  got  anything  to  say?  For  a  dull  compan- 
ion there's  nothing  in  the  world  to  equal  your  man  of  wit 
and  understanding  ";  which,  as  far  as  my  observation  goes, 
was  a  very  true  estimation  on  his  part. 

But,  indeed  (since  I  pretend  to  no  great  degree  of  wit 
or  understanding),  I  must  say,  as  an  excuse  for  my  silence, 
that  during  his  discourse  I  had  been  greatly  occupied  in 
observing  Moll,  and  trying  to  discover  what  was  passing  in 
her  mind.  'Twas  clear  this  talk  of  Spain  animated  her 
spirit  beyond  ordinary  measure,  so  that  at  one  moment  I 
conceived  she  did  share  her  father's  fond  fancy  that  our 
lost  happiness  might  be  regained  by  mere  change  of  scene, 
and  I  confess  I  was  persuaded  somewhat  to  this  opinion  by 
reflecting  how  much  we  owe  to  circumstances  for  our  vary- 
ing moods,  how  dull,  sunless  days  will  cast  a  gloom  upon 
our  spirits,  and  how  a  bright,  breezy  day  will  lift  them  up, 
etc.  But  I  presently  perceived  that  the  stream  of  her 


A    NEW    SCHEME.  285 

thoughts  was  divided;  for  though  she  nodded  or  shook  her 
head,  as  occasion  required,  the  strained,  earnest  expres- 
sion in  her  tightened  lips  and  knitted  brows  showed  that 
the  stronger  current  of  her  ideas  flowed  in  another  and 
deeper  channel.  Maybe  she  only  desired  her  father  to 
talk  that  she  might  be  left  the  freer  to  think. 

"  'Twas  near  about  this  time  of  the  year  that  we  started 
on  our  travels,"  said  I,  in  response  to  Dawson's  reminder. 

"Aye,  I  recollect  'twas  mighty  cold  when  we  set  sail, 
and  the  fruit  trees  were  all  bursting  into  bloom  when  we 
came  into  France.  I  would  we  were  there  now;  eh,  Moll?  " 

"What,  dear?"  asks  she,  rousing  herself  at  this  direct 
question. 

"  I  say,  would  you  be  back  there  now,  child  ?  " 

"Oh,  will  you  take  me  there  if  I  would  go?  " 

"With  all  my  heart,  dear  Moll.  Is  there  anything  in 
the  world  I'd  not  do  to  make  you  happy?  " 

She  took  his  hand  upon  her  knee,  and  caressing  it,  says : 

"Let  us  go  soon,  father." 

"What,  will  you  be  dancing  of  fandangos  again?  "  asks 
he;  and  she  nods  for  reply,  though  I  believe  her  thoughts 
had  wandered  again  to  some  other  matter. 

"  I  warrant  I  shall  fall  into  the  step  again  the  moment  I 
smell  garlic;  but  I'll  rehearse  it  an  hour  to-morrow  morn- 
ing, that  we  may  lose  no  time.  Will  you  have  a  short 
petticoat  and  a  waist-cloth  again,  Moll?  " 

She,  with  her  elbows  on  her  knees  now,  and  her  chin  in 
her  hands,  looking  into  the  fire,  nodded. 

"And  you,  Kit,"  continues  he,  "you'll  get  a  guitar  and 
play  tunes  for  us,  as  I  take  it  you  will  keep  us  company 
still." 


286  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"Yes,  you  may  count  on  me  for  that,"  says  I. 

"We  shan't  have  Don  Sanchez  to  play  the  tambour  for 
us,  but  I  wager  I  shall  beat  it  as  well  as  he;  though,  seeing 
he  owes  us  more  than  we  owe  him,  we  might  in  reason  call 
upon  him,  and  —  " 

"No,  no;  only  we  three,"  says  Moll. 

"Aye,  three's  enough,  in  all  conscience,  and  seeing  we 
know  a  bit  of  the  language,  we  shall  get  on  well  enough 
without  him.  I  do  long,  Moll,  to  see  you  a-flinging  over 
my  shoulder,  with  your  clappers  going,  your  pretty  eye  and 
cheek  all  aglow  with  pleasure,  and  a  court  full  of  senors 
and  caballeros  crying  '  Hole" ! '  and  casting  their  handker- 
chiefs at  your  feet." 

Moll  fetched  a  long,  fluttering  sigh,  and,  turning  to  her 
father,  says  in  an  absent  way:  "Yes,  dear;  yes.  When  shall 
we  go?  " 

Then,  falling  to  discussing  particulars,  Dawson,  clasping 
his  hands  upon  his  stomach,  asked  with  a  long  face  if  at 
this  season  we  were  likely  to  fall  in  with  the  equinoxes  on 
our  voyage,  and  also  if  we  could  not  hit  some  point  of 
Spain  so  as  to  avoid  crossing  the  mountains  of  Pyranee  and 
the  possibility  of  falling  again  into  the  hands  of  brigands. 
To  which  I  replied  that,  knowing  nothing  of  the  northern 
part  of  Spain  and  its  people,  we  stood  a  chance  of  rinding 
a  rude  climate,  unsuitable  to  travelling  at  this  time  of  year, 
and  an  inhospitable  reception,  and  that,  as  our  object  was 
to  reach  the  South  as  quickly  as  possible,  it  would  be  more 
to  our  advantage  to  find  a  ship  going  through  the  straits 
which  would  carry  us  as  far  as  Alicante  or  Valencia.  And 
Moll  supporting  my  argument  very  vigorously,  Dawson  gave 
way  with  much  less  reluctance  than  I  expected  at  the  out- 


SET    OUT    AGAIN    FOR    SPAIN.  287 

set.  But,  indeed,  the  good  fellow  seemed  now  ready  to 
make  any  sacrifice  of  himself  so  that  he  might  see  his  Moll 
joyous  again. 

When  I  entered  his  shop  the  next  morning,  I  found  him 
with  his  coat  off,  cutting  capers,  a  wooden  platter  in  his 
hand  for  a  tambourine,  and  the  sweat  pouring  down  his 
face. 

"  I  am  a  couple  of  stone  or  so  too  heavy  for  the  boleros," 
gasps  he,  coming  to  a  stand,  "  but  I  doubt  not,  by  the  time 
we  land  at  Alicante,  there'll  not  be  an  ounce  too  much 
of  me." 

Learning  that  a  convoy  for  the  Levant  was  about  to  set 
sail  with  the  next  favourable  wind  from  Chatham,  we  took 
horse  and  rode  there  that  afternoon,  and  by  great  good 
luck  we  found  the  Faithful  Friend,  a  good  ship  bound 
for  Genoa  in  Italy,  whereof  Mr.  Dixon,  the  master,  having 
intent  to  enter  and  victual  at  Alicante,  undertook  to  carry 
us  there  for  ten  pounds  a  head,  so  being  we  could  get  all 
aboard  by  the  next  evening  at  sundown. 

Here  was  short  grace,  to  be  sure  ;  but  we  did  so  despatch 
our  affairs  that  we  were  embarked  in  due  time,  and  by  day- 
break the  following  morning,  were  under  weigh. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

How  we  lost  our  poor  Moll,  and  our  long  search  for  her. 

WE  reached  Alicante  the  i5th  March,  after  a  long,  tedious 
voyage.  During  this  time  I  had  ample  opportunity  for 
observing  Moll,  but  with  little  relief  to  my  gloomy  appre- 
hensions. She  rarely  quitted  her  father's  side,  being  now 
as  sympathetic  and  considerate  of  him  in  his  sufferings,  as 
before  she  had  been  thoughtless  and  indifferent.  She  had 
ever  a  gentle  word  of  encouragement  for  him  ;  she  was  ever 
kind  and  patient.  Only  once  her  spirit  seemed  to  weary : 
that  was  when  we  had  been  beating  about  in  the  bay  of 
Cadiz  four  days,  for  a  favourable  gale  to  take  us  through 
the  straits.  We  were  on  deck,  she  and  I,  the  sails  flapping 
the  masts  idly  above  our  heads. 

"  Oh,"  says  she,  laying  her  hand  on  my  shoulder,  and  her 
wasted  cheek  against  my  arm,  "  oh,  that  it  were  all  ended  ! " 

She  was  sweeter  with  me  than  ever  she  had  been  before ; 
it  seemed  as  if  the  love  bred  in  her  heart  by  marriage 
must  expend  itself  upon  some  one.  But  though  this  tender- 
ness endeared  her  more  to  me,  it  saddened  me,  and  I  would 
have  had  her  at  her  tricks  once  more,  making  merry  at  my 
expense.  For  I  began  to  see  that  our  happiness  comes  from 
within  and  not  from  without,  and  so  fell  despairing  that  ever 
this  poor  stricken  heart  of  hers  would  be  healed,  which  set 
me  a-repenting  more  sincerely  than  ever  the  mischief  I  had 
helped  to  do  her. 

288 


NOUGHT    THE    SAME    IN    SPAIN.  289 

Dawson  also,  despite  his  stubborn  disposition  to  see  things 
as  he  would  have  them,  had,  nevertheless,  some  secret  per- 
ception of  the  incurable  sorrow  which  she,  with  all  her  art, 
could  scarce  dissimulate.  Yet  he  clung  to  that  fond  belief 
in  a  return  of  past  happiness,  as  if  'twere  his  last  hope  on 
earth.  When  at  last  our  wind  sprang  up,  and  we  were  cut- 
ting through  the  waters  with  bending  masts  and  not  a  crease 
in  the  bellied  sails,  he  came  upon  deck,  and  spreading  his 
hands  out,  cries  in  joy  : 

"  Oh,  this  blessed  sunlight !  There  is  nought  in  the  world 
like  it  —  no,  not  the  richest  wine  —  to  swell  one's  heart 
with  content." 

And  then  he  fell  again  to  recalling  our  old  adventures  and 
mirthful  escapades.  He  gave  the  rascals  who  fetched  us 
ashore  a  piece  more  than  they  demanded,  hugely  delighted 
to  find  they  understood  his  Spanish  and  such  quips  as  he  could 
call  to  mind.  Then  being  landed,  he  falls  to  extolling  every- 
thing he  sees  and  hears,  calling  upon  Moll  to  justify  his 
appreciation ;  nay,  he  went  so  far  as  to  pause  in  a  narrow 
street  where  was  a  most  unsavoury  smell,  to  sniff  the  air  and 
declare  he  could  scent  the  oranges  in  bloom.  And  Lord  !  to 
hear  him  praise  the  whiteness  of  the  linen,  the  excellence  of 
the  meat  and  drink  set  before  us  at  the  posada,  one  would 
have  said  he  had  never  before  seen  clean  sheets  or  tasted 
decent  victuals. 

Seeing  that  neither  Moll  nor  I  could  work  ourselves  up 
(try  as  we  might)  to  his  high  pitch  of  enthusiasm,  he  was 
ready  with  an  excuse  for  us. 

"  I  perceive,"  says  he,  "you  are  still  suffering  from  your 
voyage.      Therefore,  we  will  not  quit  this  town  before  to- 
morrow "  (otherwise  I  believe  he  would  have  started  off 
u 


290  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

on  our  expedition  as  soon  as  our  meal  was  done) .  "  How- 
ever," adds  he,  "do  you  make  enquiry,  Kit,  if  you  can  get 
yourself  understood,  if  there  be  ever  a  bull  to  be  fought 
to-day  or  any  diversion  of  dancing  or  play-acting  to-night, 
that  the  time  hang  not  too  heavy  on  our  hands." 

As  no  such  entertainments  were  to  be  had  (this  being 
the  season  of  Lent,  which  is  observed  very  strictly  in  these 
parts),  Dawson  contented  himself  with  taking  Moll  out  to 
visit  the  shops,  and  here  he  speedily  purchased  a  pair  of 
clappers  for  her,  a  tambour  for  himself,  and  a  guitar  for  me, 
though  we  were  difficult  to  please,  for  no  clappers  pleased 
Moll  as  those  she  had  first  bought ;  and  it  did  seem  to  me 
that  I  could  strike  no  notes  out  of  any  instrument  but  they 
had  a  sad,  mournful  tone. 

Then  nothing  would  satisfy  him  but  to  go  from  one 
draper's  to  another,  seeking  a  short  petticoat,  a  waist-cloth, 
and  a  round  hat  to  Moll's  taste,  which  ended  to  his  disap- 
pointment, for  she  could  find  none  like  the  old. 

"Why,  don't  you  like  this?"  he  would  say,  holding  up  a 
gown  ;  "  to  my  eyes  'tis  the  very  spit  of  t'other,  only  fresher." 

And  she  demurring,  whispers,  "  To-morrow,  dear,  to-mor- 
row," with  plaintive  entreaty  for  delay  in  her  wistful  eyes. 

Disheartened,  but  not  yet  at  the  end  of  his  resources, 
her  father  at  last  proposed  that  she  should  take  a  turn 
through  the  town  alone  and  choose  for  herself.  "For," 
says  he,  "  I  believe  we  do  rather  hinder  than  help  you  with 
our  advice  in  such  matters." 

After  a  moment's  reflection,  Moll  agreed  to  this,  and  say- 
ing she  would  meet  us  at  the  posada  for  supper,  left  us,  and 
walked  briskly  back  the  way  we  had  come. 

When  she  was  gone,  Dawson  had  never  a  word  to  say, 


GREATLY    PERPLEXED    STILL.  2QI 

nor  I  either,  for  dejection,  yet,  had  I  been  questioned,  I 
could  have  found  no  better  reason  for  my  despondency  than 
that  I  felt  'twas  all  a  mistake  coming  here  for  happiness. 

Strolling  aimlessly  through  the  narrow  back  ways,  we 
came  presently  to  the  market  that  stands  against  the  port. 
And  here,  almost  at  the  first  step,  Dawson  catches  my  arm 
and  nods  towards  the  opposite  side  of  the  market-place. 
Some  Moors  were  seated  there  in  their  white  clothes,  with 
bundles  of  young  palm  leaves,  plaited  up  in  various  forms  of 
crowns,  crosses,  and  the  like,  —  which  the  people  of  this 
country  do  carry  to  church  to  be  blessed  on  Palm  Sunday  ; 
and  these  Moors  I  knew  came  from  Elche,  because  palms 
grow  nowhere  else  in  such  abundance. 

"  Yes,"  says  I,  thinking  'twas  this  queer  merchandise  he 
would  point  out,  "  I  noticed  these  Moors  and  their  ware 
when  we  passed  here  a  little  while  back  with  Moll." 

"  Don't  you  see  her  there  now — at  the  corner?"  asks 
he. 

Then,  to  my  surprise,  I  perceived  Moll  in  very  earnest 
conversation  with  two  Moors,  who  had  at  first  screened  her 
from  my  sight. 

"  Come  away,"  continues  he.  "  She  left  us  to  go  back 
and  speak  to  them,  and  would  not  have  us  know." 

Why  should  she  be  secret  about  this  trifling  matter,  I 
asked  myself.  'Twas  quite  natural  that,  if  she  recognised 
in  these  Moors  some  old  acquaintance  of  Elche,  she  should 
desire  to  speak  them. 

We  stole  away  to  the  port,  and  seating  ourselves  upon 
some  timber,  there  we  looked  upon  the  sea  nigh  upon  half 
an  hour  without  saying  a  word.  Then  turning  to  me, 
Dawson  says  :  "  Unless  she  speak  to  us  upon  this  matter, 


2Q2  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

Kit,  we  will  say  nought  to  her.  But,  if  she  say  nothing,  I 
shall  take  it  for  a  sign  her  heart  is  set  upon  going  back  to 
Elche,  and  she  would  have  it  a  secret  that  we  may  not  be 
disheartened  in  our  other  project." 

"That  is  likely  enough,"  says  I,  not  a  little  surprised  by 
his  reasoning.  But  love  sharpens  a  man's  wit,  be  it  never 
so  dull. 

"  Nevertheless,"  continues  he,  "  if  she  can  be  happier  at 
Elche  than  elsewhere,  then  must  we  abandon  our  scheme 
and  accept  hers  with  a  good  show  of  content.  We  owe 
her  that,  Kit." 

"  Aye,  and  more,"  says  I. 

"Then  when  we  meet  to-morrow  morning,  I  will  offer  to 
go  there,  as  if  'twas  a  happy  notion  that  had  come  to  me  in 
my  sleep,  and  do  you  back  me  up  with  all  the  spirit  you  can 
muster." 

So  after  some  further  discussion  we  rose,  and  returned  to 
our  posada,  where  we  found  Moll  waiting  for  us.  She  told 
us  she  had  found  no  clothes  to  her  liking  (which  was  signifi- 
cant), and  said  not  a  word  of  her  speaking  to  the  Moors 
in  the  market-place,  so  we  held  our  peace  on  these  matters. 

We  did  not  part  till  late  that  night,  for  Moll  would  sit  up 
with  us,  confessing  she  felt  too  feverish  for  sleep ;  and  indeed 
this  was  apparent  enough  by  her  strange  humour,  for  she 
kept  no  constant  mood  for  five  minutes  together.  Now,  she 
would  sit  pensive,  paying  no  heed  to  us,  with  a  dreamy  look 
in  her  eyes,  as  if  her  thoughts  were  wandering  far  away  —  to 
her  husband  in  England  maybe ;  then  she  would  hang  her 
head  as  though  she  dared  not  look  him  in  the  face  even  at 
that  distance  ;  and  anon  she  would  recover  herself  with  a 
noble  exaltation,  lifting  her  head  with  a  fearless  mien.  And 


MOLL  S  STRANGE  DEMEANOUR.         293 

so  presently  her  body  drooping  gradually  to  a  reflective  pos- 
ture, she  falls  dreaming  again,  to  rouse  herself  suddenly  at 
some  new  prompting  of  her  spirit,  and  give  us  all  her 
thoughts,  all  eagerness  for  two  moments,  all  melting  sweet- 
ness the  next,  with  her  pretty  manner  of  clinging  to  her 
father's  arm,  and  laying  her  cheek  against  his  shoulder. 
And  when  at  last  we  came  to  say  good-night,  she  hangs 
about  his  neck  as  if  she  would  fain  sleep  there,  quitting  him 
with  a  deep  sigh  and  a  passionate  kiss.  Also  she  kissed  me 
most  affectionately,  but  could  say  never  a  word  of  farewell 
to  either  of  us  —  hurrying  to  her  chamber  to  weep,  as  I 
think. 

We  knew  not  what  to  conclude  from  these  symptoms, 
save  that  she  might  be  sickening  of  some  disorder ;  so  we 
to  our  beds,  very  down  in  the  mouth  and  faint  at  heart. 

About  six  the  next  morning  I  was  awoke  by  the  door 
bursting  suddenly  open,  and  starting  up  in  my  bed,  I  see 
Dawson  at  my  side,  shaking  in  every  limb,  and  his  eyes 
wide  with  terror. 

"  Moll's  gone  !  "  cries  he,  and  falls  a- blubbering. 

"  Gone  !  "  says  I,  springing  out  of  bed.  "  Tis  not  pos- 
sible." 

"  She  has  not  lain  in  her  bed  ;  and  one  saw  her  go  forth 
last  night  as  the  doors  were  closing,  knowing  her  for  a  for- 
eigner by  her  hood.  Come  with  me,"  adds  he,  laying  his 
hand  on  a  chair  for  support.  "  1  dare  not  go  alone." 

"Aye,  I'll  go  with  ye,  Jack ;  but  whither?" 

"  Down  to  the  sea,"  says  he,  hoarsely. 

I  stopped  in  the  midst  of  dressing,  overcome  by  this  fear- 
ful hint ;  for,  knowing  Moll's  strong  nature,  the  thought  had 
pever  occurred  to  me  that  she  might  do  away  with  herself. 


294  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

Yet  now  reflecting  on  her  strange  manner  of  late,  especially 
her  parting  with  us  overnight,  it  seemed  not  so  impossible 
neither.  For  here,  seeing  the  folly  of  our  coming  hither, 
desponding  of  any  happiness  in  the  future,  was  the  speed- 
iest way  of  ending  a  life  that  was  burdensome  to  herself  and 
a  constant  sorrow  to  us.  Nay,  with  her  notions  of  poetic 
justice  drawn  from  plays,  she  may  have  regarded  this  as 
the  only  atonement  she  could  make  her  husband ;  the  only 
means  of  giving  him  back  freedom  to  make  a  happier  choice 
in  marriage.  With  these  conclusions  taking  shape,  I  shuffled 
on  my  clothes,  and  then,  with  shaking  fear,  we  two,  hanging 
to  each  other's  arms  for  strength,  made  our  way  through  the 
crooked  streets  to  the  sea ;  and  there,  seeing  a  group  of  men 
and  women  gathered  at  the  water's  edge  some  little  distance 
from  us,  we  dared  not  go  further,  conceiving  'twas  a  dead 
body  they  were  regarding.  But  'twas  only  a  company  of 
fishers  examining  their  haul  of  fishes,  as  we  presently  per- 
ceived. So,  somewhat  cheered,  we  cast  our  eyes  to  the 
right  and  left,  and,  seeing  nothing  to  justify  our  fears,  ad- 
vanced along  the  mole  to  the  very  end,  where  it  juts  out 
into  the  sea,  with  great  stones  around  to  break  the  surf. 
Here,  then,  with  deadly  apprehensions,  we  peered  amongst 
the  rocks,  holding  our  breath,  clutching  tight  hold  of  one 
another  by  the  hand,  in  terror  of  finding  that  we  so  eagerly 
searched,  —  a  hood,  a  woman's  skirt  clinging  to  the  stones, 
a  stiffened  hand  thrust  up  from  the  lapping  waters.  Never 
may  I  forget  the  sickening  horror  of  the  moment  when, 
creeping  out  amidst  the  rocks,  Dawson  twitches  my  hand, 
and  points  down  through  the  clear  water  to  something  lying 
white  at  the  bottom.  It  looked  for  all  the  world  like  a  dead 
face,  coloured  a  greenish  white  by  the  water ;  but  presently 


FRUITLESS    SEARCH    FOR    MOLL. 


we  saw,  by  one  end  curling  over  in  the  swell  of  a  wave,  that 
'twas  only  a  rag  of  paper. 

Then  I  persuaded  Dawson  to  give  up  this  horrid  search, 
and  return  to  our  posada,  when,  if  we  found  not  Moll,  we 
might  more  justly  conclude  she  had  gone  to  Elche,  than  put 
an  end  to  her  life  ;  and  though  we  could  learn  nothing  of 
her  at  our  inn,  more  than  Dawson  had  already  told  me,  yet 
our  hopes  were  strengthened  in  the  probability  of  finding 
her  at  Elche  by  recollecting  her  earnest,  secret  conversation 
with  the  Moors,  who  might  certainly  have  returned  to  Elche 
in  the  night,  they  preferring  that  time  for  their  journey,  as  we 
knew.  So,  having  hastily  snatched  a  repast,  whilst  our  land- 
lord was  procuring  mules  for  our  use,  we  set  off  across  the 
plain,  doing  our  best  to  cheer  each  other  on  the  way.  But 
I  confess  one  thing  damped  my  spirits  exceedingly,  and  that 
was,  having  no  hint  from  Moll  the  night  before  of  this  project, 
which  then  must  have  been  fully  matured  in  her  mind, 
nor  any  written  word  of  explanation  and  encouragement. 
For,  thinks  I,  she  being  no  longer  a  giddy,  heedless  child, 
ready  to  play  any  prank  without  regard  to  the  consequences, 
but  a  very  considerate,  remorseful  woman,  would  not  put  us 
to  this  anxiety  without  cause.  Had  she  resolved  to  go  to 
her  friends  at  Elche,  she  would,  at  least,  have  comforted  us 
with  the  hope  of  meeting  her  again  ;  whereas,  this  utter 
silence  did  point  to  a  knowledge  on  her  part  that  we  were 
sundered  for  ever,  and  that  she  could  give  us  no  hope,  but 
such  as  we  might  glean  from  uncertainty. 

Arriving  at  Elche,  we  made  straight  for  the  house  of  the 
merchant,  Sidi  ben  Ahmed,  with  whose  family  Moll  had  been 
so  intimate  previously.  Here  we  were  met  by  Sidi  himself, 
who,  after  laying  his  fingers  across  his  lips,  and  setting  his 


296  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

hand  upon  His  heart,  in  token  of  recognition  and  respect, 
asked  us  very  civilly  our  business,  though  without  any  show 
of  surprise  at  seeing  us.  But  these  Moors  do  pride  them- 
selves upon  a  stoic  behaviour  at  all  times,  and  make  it  a 
point  to  conceal  any  emotion  they  may  feel,  so  that  men 
never  can  truly  judge  of  their  feelings. 

Upon  explaining  our  circumstances  as  well  as  our  small 
knowledge  of  the  tongue  allowed  us,  he  makes  us  a  gesture 
of  his  open  hands,  as  if  he  would  have  us  examine  his  house 
for  ourselves,  to  see  that  she  was  not  hid  away  there  for  any 
reason,  and  then  calling  his  servants,  he  bids  them  seek 
through  all  the  town,  promising  them  a  rich  reward  if  they 
bring  any  tidings  of  Lala  Mollah.  And  while  this  search  was 
being  made,  he  entertained  us  at  his  own  table,  where  we 
recounted  so  much  of  our  miserable  history  as  we  thought 
it  advisable  he  should  know. 

One  by  one  the  servants  came  in  to  tell  that  they  had 
heard  nothing,  save  that  some  market-men  had  seen  and 
spoken  with  Moll  at  Alicante,  but  had  not  clapt  eyes  on 
her  since.  Not  content  with  doing  us  this  service,  the  mer- 
chant furnished  us  with  fresh  mules,  to  carry  us  back  to 
Alicante,  whither  we  were  now  all  eagerness  to  return,  in  the 
hope  of  finding  Moll  at  the  posada.  So,  travelling  all  night, 
we  came  to  our  starting-place  the  next  morning,  to  learn  no 
tidings  of  our  poor  Moll. 

We  drew  some  grain  of  comfort  from  this ;  for,  it  being 
now  the  third  day  since  the  dear  girl  had  disappeared,  her 
body  would  certainly  have  been  washed  ashore,  had  she 
cast  herself,  as  we  feared,  in  the  sea.  It  occurred  to  us 
that  if  Moll  were  still  living,  she  had  either  returned  to 
England,  or  gone  to  Don  Sanchez  at  Toledo,  whose  wise 


AT    OUR    WITS     END.  297 

counsels  she  had  ever  held  in  high  respect.  The  former 
supposition  seemed  to  me  the  better  grounded ;  for  it  was 
easy  to  understand  how,  yearning  for  him  night  and  day, 
she  should  at  length  abandon  every  scruple,  and  throw 
herself  at  his  feet,  reckless  of  what  might  follow.  'Twas 
not  inconsistent  with  her  impulsive  character,  and  that  more 
reasonable  view  of  life  she  had  gained  by  experience,  and 
the  long  reflections  on  her  voyage  hither.  And  that  which 
supported  my  belief  still  more  was  that  a  fleet  of  four  sail 
(as  I  learnt)  had  set  forth  for  England  the  morning  after 
our  arrival.  So  now  finding,  on  enquiry,  that  a  carrier  was 
to  set  out  for  Toledo  that  afternoon,  I  wrote  a  letter  to 
Don  Sanchez,  telling  him  the  circumstances  of  our  loss,  and 
begging  him  to  let  us  know,  as  speedily  as  possible,  if  he 
had  heard  aught  of  Moll.  And  in  this  letter  I  enclosed  a 
second,  addressed  to  Mr.  Godwin,  having  the  same  purport, 
which  I  prayed  Don  Sanchez  to  send  on  with  all  expedition, 
if  Moll  were  not  with  him. 

And  now,  having  despatched  these  letters,  we  had  nothing 
to  do  but  to  await  a  reply,  which,  at  the  earliest,  we  could 
not  expect  to  get  before  the  end  of  the  week  —  Toledo 
being  a  good  eighty  English  leagues  distant. 

We  waited  in  Alicante  four  days  more,  making  seven  in 
all  from  the  day  we  lost  Moll ;  and  then,  the  suspense  and 
torment  of  inactivity  becoming  insupportable,  we  set  out 
again  for  Elche,  the  conviction  growing  strong  upon  us, 
with  reflection,  that  we  had  little  to  hope  from  Don  Sanchez. 
And  we  resolved  we  would  not  go  this  time  to  Sidi  ben  Ahmed, 
but  rather  seek  to  take  him  unawares,  and  make  enquiry 
by  more  subtle  means,  we  having  our  doubts  of  his  veracity. 
For  these  Moors  are  not  honest  liars  like  plain  Englishmen, 


298  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

who  do  generally  give  you  some  hint  of  their  business  by 
shifting  of  their  eyes  this  way  and  that,  hawking,  stam- 
mering, etc.,  but  they  will  ever  look  you  calmly  and  straight 
in  the  face,  never  at  a  loss  for  the  right  word,  or  over-anxious 
to  convince  you,  so  that  'twill  plague  a  conjurer  to  tell  if 
they  speak  truth  or  falsehood.  And  here  I  would  remark, 
that  in  all  my  observations  of  men  and  manners,  there  is  no 
nation  in  the  world  to  equal  the  English,  for  a  straight- 
forward, pious,  horse-racing  sort  of  people. 

Well,  then,  we  went  about  our  search  in  Elche  with  all 
the  slyness  possible,  prying  here  and  there  like  a  couple  of 
thieves  a- robbing  a  hen-roost,  and  putting  cross-questions 
to  every  simple  fellow  we  met,  —  the  best  we  could  with 
our  small  knowledge  of  their  tongue,  —  but  all  to  no  pur- 
pose, and  so  another  day  was  wasted.  We  lay  under  the 
palms  that  night,  and  in  the  morning  began  our  perquisi- 
tion afresh ;  now  hunting  up  and  down  the  narrow  lanes 
and  alleys  of  the  town,  as  we  had  scoured  those  of  Alicante, 
in  vain,  until,  persuaded  of  the  uselessness  of  our  quest,  we 
agreed  to  return  to  Alicante,  in  the  hope  of  finding  there 
a  letter  from  Don  Sanchez.  But  (not  to  leave  a  single 
stone  unturned),  we  settled  we  would  call  once  again  on 
Sidi  ben  Ahmed,  and  ask  if  he  had  any  tidings  to  give  us, 
but,  openly,  feeling  we  were  no  match  for  him  at  subterfuge. 
So,  to  his  house  we  went,  where  we  were  received  very  gra- 
ciously by  the  old  merchant,  who,  chiding  us  gently  for 
being  in  the  neighbourhood  a  whole  day  without  giving  him 
a  call,  prayed  us  to  enter  his  unworthy  parlour,  adding  that 
we  should  find  there  a  friend  who  would  be  very  pleased 
to  see  us. 

At  this,  my  heart  bounded  to  such  an  extent  that  I  could 


GET    TIDINGS    OF    MOLL    AT    LAST.  299 

utter  never  a  word  (nor  could  Dawson  either),  for  I  ex- 
pected nothing  less  than  to  find  this  friend  was  our  dear 
Moll ;  and  so,  silent  and  shaking  with  feverish  anticipation, 
we  followed  him  down  the  tiled  passage  and  round  the 
inner  garden  of  his  house  by  the  arcade,  till  we  reached  a 
doorway,  and  there,  lifting  aside  the  heavy  hangings,  he 
bade  us  enter.  We  pushed  by  him  in  rude  haste,  and  then 
stopped  of  a  sudden,  in  blank  amazement ;  for,  in  place  of 
Moll,  whom  we  fully  thought  to  find,  we  discovered  only 
Don  Sanchez,  sitting  on  some  pillows  gravely  smoking  a 
Moorish  chibouk. 

"My  daughter — my  Moll!"  cries  Dawson,  in  despair. 
"Where  is  she?" 

"By  this  time,"  replies  Don  Sanchez,  rising,  "your 
daughter  should  be  in  Barbary." 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

We  learn  what  hath  become  of  Moll ;  and  how  she  nobly  atoned  for 


our  sins. 


"  BARBARY  —  Barbary  ! "  gasps  Dawson,  thunderstruck 
by  this  discovery.  "  My  Moll  in  Barbary?" 

"  She  sailed  three  days  ago,"  says  the  Don,  laying  down 
his  pipe,  and  rising. 

Dawson  regards  him  for  a  moment  or  two  in  a  kind  of 
stupor,  and  then  his  ideas  taking  definite  shape,  he  cries  in 
a  fury  of  passion  and  clenching  his  fists  : 

"Spanish  dog  !  you  shall  answer  this.  And  you"  (turn- 
ing in  fury  upon  Sidi),  "  you  —  I  know  your  cursed  traffic  — 
you've  sold  her  to  the  Turk  !  " 

Though  Sidi  may  have  failed  to  comprehend  his  words, 
he  could  not  misunderstand  his  menacing  attitude,  yet  he 
faced  him  with  an  unmoved  countenance,  not  a  muscle  of 
his  body  betraying  the  slightest  fear,  his  stoic  calm  doing 
more  than  any  argument  of  words  to  overthrow  Dawson's 
mad  suspicion.  But  his  passion  unabated,  Dawson  turns 
again  upon  Don  Sanchez,  crying  : 

"  Han't  you  won  enough  by  your  villany,  but  you  must 
rob  me  of  my  daughter?  Are  you  not  satisfied  with  bring- 
ing us  to  shame  and  ruin,  but  this  poor  girl  of  mine  must  be 
cast  to  the  Turk?  Speak,  rascal!"  adds  he,  advancing  a 
step,  and  seeking  to  provoke  a  conflict.  "  Speak,  if  you 
have  any  reason  to  show  why  I  shouldn't  strangle  you." 

300 


STRANGE    DISCOURSE    OF    DON    SANCHEZ.          3<DI 

"  You'll  not  strangle  me,"  answers  the  Don,  calmly,  "and 
here's  my  reason  if  you  would  see  it."  And  with  that  he 
tilts  his  elbow,  and  with  a  turn  of  the  wrist  displays  a  long 
knife  that  lay  concealed  under  his  forearm.  "  I  know  no 
other  defence  against  the  attack  of  a  madman." 

"  If  I  be  mad,"  says  Dawson,  "  and  mad  indeed  I  may 
be,  and  no  wonder, — why,  then,  put  your  knife  to  merciful 
use  and  end  my  misery  here." 

"  Nay,  take  it  in  your  own  hand,"  answers  the  Don,  offer- 
ing the  knife.  "  And  use  it  as  you  will  —  on  yourself  if  you 
are  a  fool,  or  on  me  if,  being  not  a  fool,  you  can  hold  me 
guilty  of  such  villany  as  you  charged  me  with  in  your 
passion." 

Dawson  looks  upon  the  offered  knife  an  instant  with  dis- 
traction in  his  eyes,  and  the  Don  (not  to  carry  this  risky 
business  too  far),  taking  his  hesitation  for  refusal,  claps  up 
the  blade  in  his  waist-cloth,  where  it  lay  mighty  convenient 
to  his  hand, 

"You  are  wise,"  says  he,  "  for  if  that  noble  woman  is  to 
be  served,  'tis  not  by  spilling  the  blood  of  her  best  friends." 

"You,  her  friend  !  "  says  Dawson. 

"  Aye,  her  best  friend  !  "  replies  the  other,  with  dignity, 
"  for  he  is  best  who  can  best  serve  her." 

"  Then  must  I  be  her  worst,"  says  Jack,  humbly,  "  having 
no  power  to  undo  the  mischief  I  have  wrought." 

"Tell  me,  Sefior,"  says  I,  "who  hath  kidnapped  poor 
Moll?" 

"  Nobody.  She  went  of  her  free  will,  knowing  full  well 
the  risk  she  ran  —  the  possible  end  of  her  noble  adventure 
—  against  the  dissuasions  and  the  prayers  of  all  her  friends 
here.  She  stood  in  the  doorway  there,  and  saw  you  cross 


3O2  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

the  garden  when  you  first  came  to  seek  her  —  saw  you,  her 
father,  distracted  with  grief  and  fear,  and  she  suffered  you 
to  go  away.  As  you  may  know,  nothing  is  more  sacred  to  a 
Moor  than  the  laws  of  hospitality,  and  by  those  laws  Sidi 
was  bound  to  respect  the  wishes  of  one  who  had  claimed 
his  protection.  He  could  not  betray  her  secret,  but  he  and 
his  family  did  their  utmost  to  persuade  her  from  her  pur- 
pose. While  you  were  yet  in  the  town,  they  implored  her  to 
let  them  call  you  back,  and  she  refused.  Failing  in  their 
entreaties,  they  despatched  a  messenger  to  me ;  alas  !  when 
I  arrived,  she  was  gone.  She  went  with  a  company  of  mer- 
chants bound  for  Alger,  and  all  that  her  friends  here  could 
do  was  to  provide  her  with  a  servant  and  letters,  which  will 
ensure  her  safe  conduct  to  Thadviir." 

"But  why  has  she  gone  there,  Senor?"  says  I,  having 
heard  him  in  a  maze. of  wonderment  to  the  end. 

"  Cannot  you  guess  ?  Surely  she  must  have  given  you 
some  hint  of  her  purposes,  for  'twas  in  her  mind,  as  I  learn, 
when  she  agreed  to  leave  England  and  come  hither." 

"Nothing  —  we  know  nothing,"  falters  Dawson.  "  'Tis 
all  mystery  and  darkness.  Only  we  did  suppose  to  find 
happiness  a-wandering  about  the  country,  dancing  and 
idling,  as  we  did  before." 

"That  dream  was  never  hers,"  answers  the  Don.  "She 
never  thought  to  find  happiness  in  idling  pleasure.  'Tis  the 
joy  of  martyrdom  she's  gone  to  find,  seeking  redemption  in 
self-sacrifice." 

"  Be  more  explicit,  sir,  I  pray,"  says  I. 

"  In  a  word,  then,  she  has  gone  to  offer  herself  as  a  ran- 
som for  the  real  Judith  Godwin." 

We  were  too  overwrought  for  great  astonishment ;  indeed, 


DAWSON    EXALTED    WITH    GREAT    PASSION.        303 

my  chief  surprise  was  that  I  had  not  foreseen  this  event  in 
Moll's  desire  to  return  to  Elche,  or  hit  upon  the  truth  in 
seeking  an  explanation  of  her  disappearance.  'Twas  of  a 
piece  with  her  natural  romantic  disposition  and  her  newly 
awaked  sense  of  poetic  justice,  —  for  here  at  one  stroke  she 
makes  all  human  atonement  for  her  fault  and  ours,  —  earn- 
ing her  husband's  forgiveness  by  this  proof  of  dearest  love, 
and  winning  back  for  ever  an  honoured  place  in  his  remem- 
brance. And  I  bethought  me  of  our  Lord's  saying  that 
greater  love  is  there  none  than  this  :  that  one  shall  lay 
down  his  life  for  another. 

For  some  time  Dawson  stood  silent,  his  arms  folded  upon 
his  breast,  and  his  head  bent  in  meditation,  his  lips  pressed 
together,  and  every  muscle  in  his  face  contracted  with  pain 
and  labouring  thought.  Then,  raising  his  head  and  fixing 
his  eyes  on  the  Don,  he  says  : 

"  If  I  understand  aright,  my  Moll  hath  gone  to  give  herself 
up  for  a  slave,  in  the  place  of  her  whose  name  she  took." 

The  Don  assents  with  a  grave  inclination  of  his  head,  and 
Dawson  continues  : 

"  I  ask  your  pardon  for  that  injustice  I  did  you  in  my 
passion ;  but  now  that  I  am  cool  I  cannot  hold  you  blame- 
less for  what  has  befallen  my  poor  child,  and  I  call  upon 
you  as  a  man  of  honour  to  repair  the  wrong  you've  done  me." 

Again  the  Don  bows  very  gravely,  and  then  asks  what  we 
would  have  him  do. 

"  I  ask  you,"  says  Dawson,  "  as  we  have  no  means  for  such 
an  expedition,  to  send  me  across  the  sea  there  to  my  Moll." 

"  I  cannot  ensure  your  return,"  says  the  Don,  "  and  I 
warn  you  that  once  in  Barbary  you  may  never  leave  it." 

"  I  do  not  want  to  return  if  she  is  there ;  nay,"  adds  he, 


304  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"  if  I  may  move  them  to  any  mercy,  they  shall  do  what  they 
will  with  this  body  of  mine,  so  that  they  suffer  my  child  to 
be  free." 

The  Don  turns  to  Sidi,  and  tells  him  what  Dawson  has 
offered  to  do ;  whereupon  the  Moor  lays  his  finger  across 
his  lips,  then  his  hand  on  Dawson's  breast,  and  afterwards 
upon  his  own,  with  a  reverence,  to  show  his  respect.  And 
so  he  and  the  Don  fall  to  discussing  the  feasibility  of  this 
project  (as  I  discovered  by  picking  up  a  word  here  and 
there)  ;  and,  this  ended,  the  Don  turns  to  Dawson,  and 
tells  him  there  is  no  vessel  to  convey  him  at  present,  where- 
fore he  must  of  force  wait  patiently  till  one  comes  in  from 
Barbary. 

"  But,"  says  he,  "  we  may  expect  one  in  a  few  days,  and  rest 
you  assured  that  your  wish  shall  be  gratified  if  it  be  possible." 

We  went  down,  Dawson  and  I,  to  the  sea  that  afternoon ; 
and,  sitting  on  the  shore  at  that  point  where  we  had  for- 
merly embarked  aboard  the  Algerine  galley,  we  scanned  the 
waters  for  a  sail  that  might  be  coming  hither,  and  Dawson 
with  the  eagerness  of  one  who  looked  to  escape  from 
slavery  rather  than  one  seeking  it. 

As  we  sat  watching  the  sea,  he  fell  a-regretting  he  had 
no  especial  gift  of  nature,  by  which  he  might  more  readily 
purchase  Moll's  freedom  of  her  captors. 

"  However,"  says  he,  "  if  I  can  show  'em  the  use  of  chairs 
and  benches,  for  lack  of  which  they  are  now  compelled,  as 
we  see,  to  squat  on  mats  and  benches,  I  may  do  pretty  well 
with  Turks  of  the  better  sort  who  can  afford  luxuries,  and  so 
in  time  gain  my  end." 

"  You  shall  teach  me  this  business,  Jack,"  says  I,  "  for  at 
present  I'm  more  helpless  than  you." 


DAWSON    WOULD    GO    ALONE    INTO    BARBARY.       305 

"  Kit,"  says  he,  laying  hold  of  my  hand,  "  let  us  have  no 
misunderstanding  on  this  matter.  You  go  not  to  Barbary 
with  me." 

"  What ! "  cries  I,  protesting.  "  You  would  have  the 
heart  to  break  from  me  after  we  have  shared  good  and  ill 
fortune  together  like  two  brothers  all  these  years?" 

"  God  knows  we  shall  part  with  sore  hearts  o'  both  sides, 
and  I  shall  miss  you  sadly  enough,  with  no  Christian  to 
speak  to  out  there.  But  'tis  not  of  ourselves  we  must  think 
now.  Some  one  must  be  here  to  be  a  father  to  my  Moll 
when  she  returns,  and  I'll  trust  Don  Sanchez  no  farther 
than  I  can  see  him,  for  all  his  wisdom.  So,  as  you  love 
the  dear  girl,  you  will  stay  here,  Kit,  to  be  her  watch  and 
ward,  and  as  you  love  me  you  will  spare  me  any  further 
discussion  on  this  head.  For  I  am  resolved." 

I  would  say  nothing  then  to  contrary  him,  but  my  judg- 
ment and  feeling  both  revolted  against  his  decision.  For, 
thinks  I,  if  one  Christian  is  worth  but  a  groat  to  the  Turk, 
two  must  be  worth  eightpence,  therefore  we  together  stand 
a  better  chance  of  buying  Moll's  freedom  than  either 
singly.  And,  for  my  own  happiness,  I  would  easier  be  a 
slave  in  Barbary  with  Jack  than  free  elsewhere  and  friend- 
less. Nowhere  can  a  man  be  free  from  toil  and  pain  of 
some  sort  or  another,  and  there  is  no  such  solace  in  the 
world  for  one's  discomforts  as  the  company  of  a  true  man. 

But  I  was  not  regardless  of  Moll's  welfare  when  she  re- 
turned, neither.  For  I  argued  with  myself  that  Mr.  God- 
win had  but  to  know  of  her  condition  to  find  means  of 
coming  hither  for  her  succour.  So  the  next  time  I  met 
Don  Sanchez,  I  took  him  aside  and  told  him  of  my  con- 
cern, asking  him  the  speediest  manner  of  sending  a  letter 
x 


3O6  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

to  England  (that  I  had  enclosed  in  mine  to  the  Don  having 
missed  him  through  his  leaving  Toledo  before  it  arrived). 

"There  is  no  occasion  to  write,"  says  he.  "For  the 
moment  I  learnt  your  history  from  Sidi  I  sent  a  letter, 
apprising  him  of  his  wife's  innocence  in  this  business,  and 
the  noble  reparation  she  had  made  for  the  fault  of  others. 
Also,  I  took  the  liberty  to  enclose  a  sum  of  money  to  meet 
his  requirements,  and  I'll  answer  for  it  he  is  now  on  his 
way  hither.  For  no  man  living  could  be  dull  to  the 
charms  of  his  wife,  or  bear  resentment  to  her  for  an  act 
that  was  prompted  by  love  rather  than  avarice,  and  with  no 
calculation  on  her  part." 

This  cheered  me  considerably,  and  did  somewhat  return 
my  faith  in  Don  Sanchez,  who  certainly  was  the  most  ex- 
traordinary gentlemanly  rascal  that  ever  lived. 

Day  after  day  Dawson  and  I  went  down  to  the  sea,  and 
on  the  fifth  day  of  our  watching  (after  many  false  hopes 
and  disappointments)  we  spied  a  ship,  which  we  knew  to  be 
of  the  Algerine  sort  by  the  cross-set  of  its  lateen  sails, — 
making  it  to  look  like  some  great  bird  with  spread  wings 
on  the  water,  —  bearing  down  upon  the  shore. 

We  watched  the  approach  of  this  ship  in  a  fever  of  joy 
and  expectation,  for  though  we  dared  not  breathe  our 
hopes  one  to  another,  we  both  thought  that  maybe  Moll 
was  there.  And  this  was  not  impossible.  For,  supposing 
Judith  was  married  happily,  she  would  refuse  to  leave  her 
husband,  and  her  mother,  having  lived  so  long  in  that 
country,  might  not  care  to  leave  it  now  and  quit  her  daugh- 
ter; so  might  they  refuse  their  ransom  and  Moll  be  sent 
back  to  us.  And,  besides  this  reasoning,  we  had  that 
clinging  belief  of  the  unfortunate  that  some  unforeseen 


WE  LEARN  THAT  MOLL  HATH  PAID  HER  RANSOM.   307 

accident  might  turn  to  our  advantage  and  overthrow  our 
fears. 

The  Algerine  came  nearer  and  nearer,  until  at  length  we 
could  make  out  certain  figures  moving  upon  the  deck;  then 
Dawson,  laying  a  trembling  hand  on  my  sleeve,  asked  if  I 
did  not  think  'twas  a  woman  standing  in  the  fore  part;  but 
I  couldn't  truly  answer  yes,  which  vexed  him. 

But,  indeed,  when  the  galley  was  close  enough  to  drop 
anchor,  being  at  some  distance  from  the  shore  because  of 
the  shoals,  I  could  not  distinguish  any  women,  and  my 
heart  sank,  for  I  knew  well  that  if  Moll  were  there,  she, 
seeing  us,  would  have  given  us  some  signal  of  waving  a 
handkerchief  or  the  like.  As  soon  as  the  anchor  was  cast, 
a  boat  was  lowered,  and  being  manned,  drew  in  towards 
us;  then,  truly,  we  perceived  a  bent  figure  sitting  idle  in 
the  stern,  but  even  Dawson  dared  not  venture  to  think  it 
might  be  Moll. 

The  boat  running  on  a  shallow,  a  couple  of  Moors  stepped 
into  the  water,  and  lifting  the  figure  in  their  arms  carried 
it  ashore  to  where  we  stood.  And  now  we  perceived  'twas 
a  woman  muffled  up  in  the  Moorish  fashion,  a  little,  wizen 
old  creature,  who,  casting  back  her  head  clothes,  showed 
us  a  wrinkled  face,  very  pale  and  worn  with  care  and  age. 
Regarding  us,  she  says  in  plain  English: 

"  You  are  my  countrymen.  Is  one  of  you  named  Dawson  ?  " 

"My  name  is  Dawson,"  says  Jack. 

She  takes  his  hand  in  hers,  and  holding  it  in  hers  looks 
in  his  face  with  great  pity,  and  then  at  last,  as  if  loath  to 
tell  the  news  she  sees  he  fears  to  hear,  she  says : 

"I  am  Elizabeth  Godwin." 

What  need  of  more  to  let  us  know  that  Moll  had  paid 
her  ransom? 


CHAPTER   XXXVII. 

Don  Sanchez  again  proves  himself  the  most  mannerly  rascal  in  the 

world. 

IN  silence  we  led  Mrs.  Godwin  to  the  seat  we  had  occu- 
pied, and  seating  ourselves  we  said  not  a  word  for  some 
time.  For  my  own  part,  the  realisation  of  our  loss  threw 
my  spirits  into  a  strange  apathy;  'twas  as  if  some  actual 
blow  had  stunned  my  senses.  Yet  I  remember  observing 
the  Moors  about  their  business,  —  despatching  one  to 
Elche  for  a  train  of  mules,  charging  a  second  boat  with 
merchandise  while  the  first  returned,  etc. 

"I  can  feel  for  you,"  says  Mrs.  Godwin  at  length,  ad- 
dressing Dawson,  "for  I  also  have  lost  an  only  child." 

"Your  daughter  Judith,  Madam?"  says  I. 

"She  died  two  years  ago.  Yours  still  lives,"  says  she, 
again  turning  to  Dawson,  who  sat  with  a  haggard  face, 
rocking  himself  like  one  nursing  a  great  pain.  "And 
while  there  is  life,  there's  hope,  as  one  says." 

"Why,  to  be  sure,"  says  Jack,  rousing  himself.  "This 
is  no  more,  Kit,  than  we  bargained  for.  Tell  me,  Madam, 
you  who  know  that  country,  do  you  think  a  carpenter 
would  be  held  in  esteem  there?  I'm  yet  a  strong  man,  as 
you  see,  with  some  good  serviceable  years  of  life  before 
me.  D'ye  think  they'd  take  me  in  exchange  for  my  Moll, 
who  is  but  a  bit  of  a  girl?  " 

"She  is  beautiful,  and  beauty  counts  for  more  than 
strength  and  abilities  there,  poor  man,"  says  she. 

308 


HOPE    OF    REDEEMING    MOLL.  309 

"I'll  make  'em  the  offer,"  says  he,  "and  though  they  do 
not  agree  to  give  her  freedom,  they  may  yet  suffer  me  to 
see  her  time  and  again,  if  I  work  well." 

"Tis  strange,"  says  she.  "Your  child  has  told  me  all 
your  history.  Had  I  learnt  it  from  other  lips,  I  might  have 
set  you  down  for  rogues,  destitute  of  heart  or  conscience ; 
yet,  with  this  evidence  before  me,  I  must  needs  regard  you 
and  your  dear  daughter  as  more  noble  than  many  whose 
deeds  are  writ  in  gold.  'Tis  a  lesson  to  teach  me  faith  in 
the  goodness  of  God,  who  redeems  his  creatures'  follies, 
with  one  touch  of  love.  Be  of  good  cheer,  my  friend," 
adds  she,  laying  her  thin  hand  on  his  arm.  "There  is 
hope.  I  would  not  have  accepted  this  ransom  —  no,  not 
for  all  your  daughter's  tears  and  entreaties  —  without  good 
assurance  that  I,  in  my  turn,  might  deliver  her." 

I  asked  the  old  gentlewoman  how  this  might  be  accom- 
plished. 

"My  niece,"  says  she,  dwelling  on  the  word  with  a  smile, 
as  if  happy  in  the  alliance,  "  my  niece,  coming  to  Barbary 
of  her  free  will,  is  not  a  slave  like  those  captured  in  war- 
fare and  carried  there  by  force.  She  remains  there  as  a 
hostage  for  me,  and  will  be  free  to  return  when  I  send  the 
price  of  my  ransom." 

"Is  that  a  great  sum?" 

"Three  thousand  gold  ducats, —  about  one  thousand 
pounds  English." 

"Why,  Madam,"  says  Dawson,  "we  have  nothing,  being 
now  reduced  to  our  last  pieces.  And  if  you  have  the 
goodness  to  raise  this  money,  Heaven  only  knows  how  long 
it  may  be  ere  you  succeed.  'Tis  a  fortnight's  journey,  at 
the  least,  to  England,  and  then  you  have  to  deal  with  your 


3IO  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

steward,  who  will  seek  only  to  put  obstacles  in  your  way, 
so  that  six  weeks  may  pass  ere  Moll  is  redeemed,  and  what 
may  befall  her  in  the  meantime?  " 

"She  is  safe.  AH  Oukadi  is  a  good  man.  She  has 
nought  to  fear  while  she  is  under  his  protection.  Do  not 
misjudge  the  Moors.  They  have  many  estimable  quali- 
ties." 

"Yet,  Madam,"  says  I,  "by  your  saying  there  is  hope,  I 
gather  there  must  be  also  danger." 

"There  is,"  answers  she,  at  which  Jack  nods  with  con- 
viction. "A  beautiful  young  woman  is  never  free  from 
danger"  (Jack  assents  again).  "There  are  good  and  bad 
men  amongst  the  Moors  as  amongst  other  people." 

"Aye,  to  be  sure,"  says  Dawson. 

"  I  say  she  is  safe  under  the  protection  of  Ali  Oukadi, 
but  when  the  ransom  is  paid  and  she  leaves  Thadviir,  she 
may  stand  in  peril." 

"Why,  that's  natural  enough,"  cries  Dawson,  "be  she 
amongst  Moors  or  no  Moors;  'tis  then  she  will  most  need 
a  friend  to  serve  her,  and  one  that  knows  the  ins  and  outs 
of  the  place  and  how  to  deal  with  these  Turks  must  surely 
be  better  than  any  half-dozen  fresh  landed  and  raw  to  their 
business."  Then  he  fell  questioning  Mrs.  Godwin  as  to 
how  Moll  was  lodged,  the  distance  of  Thadviir  from  Alger, 
the  way  to  get  there,  and  divers  other  particulars,  which, 
together  with  his  eager,  cheerful  vivacity,  showed  clearly 
enough  that  he  was  more  firmly  resolved  than  ever  to  go 
into  Barbary  and  be  near  Moll  without  delay.  And  pres- 
ently, leaving  me  with  Mrs:  Godwin,  he  goes  down  to  the 
captain  of  the  galley,  who  is  directing  the  landing  of  goods 
from  the  play-boat,  and,  with  such  small  store  of  words  as 


DON  SANCHEZ  NO  WAY  ABASHED.       311 

he  possessed,  aided  by  plentiful  gesture,  he  enters  into  a 
very  lively  debate  with  him,  the  upshot  of  which  was  that 
the  captain  tells  him  he  shall  start  the  next  morning  at 
daybreak  if  there  be  but  a  puff  of  air,  and  agrees  to  carry 
him  to  Alger  for  a  couple  of  pieces  (upon  which  they  clap 
hands),  as  Dawson,  in  high  glee,  informs  us  on  his  return. 

"And  now,  Kit,"  says  he,  "I  must  go  back  to  Elche  to 
borrow  those  same  two  pieces  of  Don  Sanchez,  so  I  pray 
you,  Madam,  excuse  me." 

But  just  then  the  train  of  mules  from  Elche  appears,  and 
with  them  Sidi  ben  Ahmed,  who,  having  information  of 
Mrs.  Godwin  coming,  brings  a  litter  for  her  carriage,  at 
the  same  time  begging  her  to  accept  his  hospitality  as  the 
true  friend  of  her  niece  Moll.  So  we  all  return  to  Elche 
together,  and  none  so  downcast  as  I  at  the  thought  of  losing 
my  friend,  and  speculating  on  the  mischances  that  might 
befall  him;  for  I  did  now  begin  to  regard  him  as  an  ill- 
fated  man,  whose  best  intentions  brought  him  nothing  but 
evil  and  misfortune. 

Being  come  to  Elche,  Don  Sanchez  presented  himself  to 
Mrs.  Godwin  with  all  the  dignity  and  calm  assurance  in  the 
world,  and  though  she  received  him  with  a  very  cold,  dis- 
tant demeanour,  as  being  the  deepest  rascal  of  us  all  and 
the  one  most  to  blame,  yet  it  ruffled  him  never  a  bit,  but 
he  carried  himself  as  if  he  had  never  benefited  himself  a 
penny  by  his  roguery  and  at  her  expense. 

On  Dawson  asking  him  for  the  loan  of  a  couple  of 
pieces  and  telling  his  project,  the  Don  drew  a  very  long 
serious  face  and  tried  his  utmost  to  dissuade  him  from  it, 
so  that  at  first  I  suspected  him  of  being  loath  to  part  with 
this  petty  sum;  but  herein  I  did  him  injustice,  for,  finding 


312  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

Dawson  was  by  no  means  to  be  turned  from  his  purpose, 
he  handed  him  his  purse,  advising  him  the  first  thing  he 
did  on  arriving  at  Alger  to  present  himself  to  the  Dey  and 
purchase  a  firman,  giving  him  protection  during  his  stay 
in  Barbary  (which  he  said  might  be  done  for  a  few  silver 
ducats).  Then,  after  discussing  apart  with  Sidi,  he  comes 
to  Mrs.  Godwin,  and  says  he : 

"  Madam,  with  your  sanction  my  friend  Sidi  ben  Ahmed 
will  charge  Mr.  Dawson  with  a  letter  to  Ali  Oukadi,  prom- 
ising to  pay  him  the  sum  of  three  thousand  gold  ducats 
upon  your  niece  being  safely  conducted  hither  within  the 
space  of  three  weeks." 

"Sefior,"  answers  she,  "I  thank  Sidi  ben  Ahmed  very 
deeply  —  and  you  also,"  adds  she,  overcoming  her  com- 
punctions, "  for  this  offer.  But  unhappily,  I  cannot  hope 
to  have  this  sum  of  money  in  so  short  a  time." 

"It  is  needless  to  say,  Madam,"  returns  he,  with  a 
scrape,  "that  in  making  this  proposal  I  have  considered 
of  that  difficulty;  my  friend  has  agreed  to  take  my  bond 
for  the  payment  of  this  sum  when  it  shall  be  convenient  to 
you  to  discharge  it." 

Mrs.  Godwin  accepted  this  arrangement  with  a  profound 
bow,  which  concealed  the  astonishment  it  occasioned  her. 
But  she  drew  a  long  breath,  and  I  perceived  she  cast  a 
curious  glance  at  all  three  of  us,  as  if  she  were  marvelling 
at  the  change  that  must  have  taken  place  in  civilised 
countries  since  her  absence,  which  should  account  for  a 
pack  of  thieves  nowadays  being  so  very  unlike  what  a 
pack  of  thieves  was  in  her  young  days. 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII. 

ffow  we  hear  MoWs  sweet  voice  through  the  walls  of  her  prison,  and 
speak  two  words  with  her,  though  almost  to  our  undoing. 

HAVING  written  his  letter,  Sidi  ben  Ahmed  proposed 
that  Mrs.  Godwin  should  await  the  return  of  Moll  before 
setting  out  for  England,  very  graciously  offering  her  the 
hospitality  of  his  house  meanwhile,  and  this  offer  she 
willingly  accepted.  And  now,  there  being  no  reason  for  my 
staying  in  Elche,  Dawson  gladly  agreed  I  should  accom- 
pany him,  the  more  so  as  I  knew  more  of  the  Moors'  lan- 
guage than  he.  Going  down  with  us  to  the  water  side, 
Don  Sanchez  gave  us  some  very  good  hints  for  our  behav- 
iour in  Barbary,  bidding  us,  above  everything,  be  very 
careful  not  to  break  any  of  the  laws  of  that  country. 
"For,"  says  he,  "I  have  seen  three  men  hanged  there  for 
merely  casting  a  Turk  into  the  sea  in  a  drunken  frolic." 

"Be  assured,  I'll  touch  nothing  but  water  for  my  drink," 
says  Dawson,  taking  this  warning  to  his  share. 

"Be  careful,"  continues  the  Don,  "to  pay  for  all  you 
have,  and  take  not  so  much  as  an  orange  from  a  tree  by 
the  wayside  without  first  laying  a  fleece  or  two  on  the 
ground.  I  warn  you  that  they,  though  upright  enough 
amongst  themselves,  are  crafty  and  treacherous  towards 
strangers,  whom  they  regard  as  their  natural  enemies;  and 
they  will  tempt  you  to  break  the  law  either  by  provoking 
a  quarrel,  or  putting  you  to  some  unlawful  practice,  that 
they  may  annul  your  firman  and  claim  you  as  convicted 


314  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

outlaws  for  their  slaves.  For  stealing  a  pullet  I  have  seen 
the  flesh  beaten  off  the  soles  of  an  English  sailor's  feet,  and 
he  and  his  companions  condemned  to  slavery  for  life." 

"I'll  lay  a  dozen  fleeces  on  the  ground  for  every  sour 
orange  I  may  take,"  says  Dawson.  "And  as  for  quarrel- 
ling, a  Turk  shall  pull  my  nose  before  ever  a  curse  shall 
pass  my  lips." 

With  these  and  other  exhortations  and  promises,  we 
parted,  and  lying  aboard  that  night,  we  set  sail  by  daybreak 
the  next  morning,  having  a  very  fair  gale  off  the  land;  and 
no  ships  in  the  world  being  better  than  these  galleys  for  swift- 
ness, we  made  an  excellent  good  passage,  so  that  ere  we 
conceived  ourselves  half  over  the  voyage,  we  sighted  Alger 
looking  like  nothing  but  a  great  chalk  quarry  for  the  white 
houses  built  up  the  side  of  the  hill. 

We  landed  at  the  mole,  which  is  a  splendid  construc- 
tion some  fifteen  hundred  feet  or  thereabouts  in  length 
(with  the  forts),  forming  a  beautiful  terrace  walk  sup- 
ported by  arches,  beneath  which  large,  splendid  maga- 
zines, all  the  most  handsome  in  the  world,  I  think.  Thence 
our  captain  led  us  to  the  Cassanabah,  a  huge,  heavy, 
square,  brick  building,  surrounded  by  high,  massive  walls 
and  defended  by  a  hundred  pieces  of  ordnance,  cannons, 
and  mortars,  all  told.  Here  the  Dey  or  Bashaw  lives  with 
his  family,  and  below  are  many  roomy  offices  for  the  dis- 
charge of  business.  Our  captain  takes  us  into  a  vast  wait- 
ing-hall where  over  a  hundred  Moors  were  patiently 
attending  an  audience  of  the  Dey's  minister,  and  there 
we  also  might  have  lingered  the  whole  day  and  gone  away 
at  night  unsatisfied  (as  many  of  these  Moors  do,  day  after 
day,  but  that  counts  for  nothing  with  these  enduring 


WE    COME    INTO    BARBARY.  315 

people),  but  having  a  hint  from  our  friend  we  found  occa- 
sion to  slip  a  ducat  in  the  hand  of  a  go-between  officer, 
who  straightway  led  us  to  his  master.  Our  captain  having 
presented  us,  with  all  the  usual  ceremonies,  the  grandee 
takes  our  letter  from  Sidi  ben  Ahmed,  reads  it,  and  with- 
out further  ado  signs  and  seals  us  a  trader's  pass  for 
twenty-eight  days,  to  end  at  sunset  the  day  after  the  festi- 
val of  Ranadal.  With  this  paper  we  went  off  in  high  glee, 
thinking  that  twenty-eight  hours  of  safe-conduct  would 
have  sufficed  us.  And  so  to  an  eating-house,  where  we 
treated  our  friendly  captain  to  the  best,  and  greasing  his 
palm  also  for  his  good  services,  parted  in  mighty  good 
humour  on  both  sides. 

By  this  time  it  was  getting  pretty  late  in  the  day;  never- 
theless, we  burnt  with  such  impatience  to  be  near  our  dear 
Moll  that  we  set  forth  for  Thadviir,  which  lies  upon  the 
seacoast  about  seven  English  leagues  east  of  Alger.  But 
a  cool,  refreshing  air  from  the  sea  and  the  great  joy  in 
our  hearts  made  this  journey  seem  to  us  the  most  delight- 
ful of  our  lives.  And  indeed,  after  passing  through  the 
suburbs  richly  planted  with  gardens,  and  crossing  the 
river,  on  which  are  many  mills,  and  so  coming  into  the 
plain  of  Mettegia,  there  is  such  an  abundance  of  sweet 
odours  and  lovely  fertile  views  to  enchant  the  senses,  that  a 
dull  man  would  be  inspirited  to  a  happy,  cheerful  mood. 

'Twas  close  upon  nine  o'clock  when  we  reached  the 
little  town,  and  not  a  soul  to  be  seen  anywhere  nor  a  light 
in  any  window,  but  that  troubled  us  not  at  all  (having  pro- 
vided ourselves  with  a  good  store  of  victuals  before  quit- 
ting Alger),  for  here  'tis  as  sweet  to  lie  of  nights  in  the  open 
air  as  in  the  finest  palace  elsewhere.  Late  as  it  was,  how- 


3l6  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

ever,  we  could  not  dispose  ourselves  to  sleep  before  we 
had  gone  all  round  the  town  to  satisfy  our  curiosity.  At 
the  further  extremity  we  spied  a  building  looking  very 
majestic  in  the  moonlight,  with  a  large  garden  about  it 
enclosed  with  high  walls,  and  deciding  that  this  must  be 
the  residence  of  Ali  Oukadi,  who,  we  had  learnt,  was  the 
most  important  merchant  of  these  parts,  we  lay.  us  down 
against  the  wall,  and  fell  asleep,  thinking  of  our  dear  Moll, 
who  perchance,  all  unconscious,  was  lying  within. 

Rising  at  daybreak,  for  Dawson  was  mightily  uneasy  unless 
we  might  be  breaking  the  law  by  sleeping  out-of-doors  (but 
there  is  no  cruel  law  of  this  sort  in  Barbary),  we  washed 
ourselves  very  properly  at  a  neighbouring  stream,  made  a 
meal  of  dry  bread  and  dates,  then,  laying  our  bundles  in  a 
secret  place  whence  we  might  conveniently  fetch  them,  if 
Ali  Oukadi  insisted  on  entertaining  us  a  day  or  two,  we  went 
into  the  town,  and  finding,  upon  enquiry,  that  this  was  indeed 
his  palace,  as  we  had  surmised,  bethought  us  what  to  say 
and  how  to  behave  the  most  civil  possible,  and  so  presented 
ourselves  at  his  gate,  stating  our  business. 

Presently,  we  were  admitted  to  an  outer  office,  and  there 
received  by  a  very  bent,  venerable  old  Moor,  who,  having 
greeted  us  with  much  ceremony,  says,  "  I  am  Ali  Oukadi. 
What  would  you  have  of  me?  " 

"  My  daughter  Moll,"  answers  Jack,  in  an  eager,  choking 
voice,  offering  his  letter.  The  Moor  regarded  him  keenly, 
and,  taking  the  letter,  sits  down  to  study  it ;  and  while  he  is 
at  this  business  a  young  Moor  enters,  whose  name,  as  we 
shortly  learnt,  was  Mohand  ou  Mohand.  He  was,  I  take  it, 
about  twenty-five  or  thirty  years  of  age,  and  as  handsome  a 
man  of  his  kind  as  ever  I  saw,  with  wondrous  soft  dark  eyes, 


ALI  OUKADI  WOULD  PUT  US  OFF.       317 

but  a  cruel  mouth  and  a  most  high,  imperious  bearing  which, 
together  with  his  rich  clothes  and  jewels,  betokened  him  a 
man  of  quality.  Hearing  who  we  were,  he  saluted  us  civilly 
enough ;  but  there  was  a  flash  of  enmity  in  his  eyes  and  a 
tightening  of  his  lips,  which  liked  me  not  at  all. 

When  the  elder  man  had  finished  the  letter,  he  hands  it 
to  the  younger,  and  he  having  read  it  in  his  turn,  they  fall 
to  discussing  it  in  a  low  tone,  and  in  a  dialect  of  which  not 
one  word  was  intelligible  to  us.  Finally,  Ali  Oukadi,  rising 
from  his  cushions,  says  gravely,  addressing  Dawson  : 

"  I  will  write  without  delay  to  Sidi  ben  Ahmed  in  answer 
to  his  letter." 

"  But  my  daughter,"  says  Dawson,  aghast,  and  as  well  as 
he  could  in  the  Moorish  tongue.  "  Am  I  not  to  have  her?  " 

"My  friend  says  nothing  here/'  answers  the  old  man, 
regarding  the  letter,  "  nothing  that  would  justify  my  giving 
her  up  to  you.  He  says  the  money  shall  be  paid  upon  her 
being  brought  safe  to  Elche." 

"Why,  your  Excellency,  I  and  my  comrade  here  will 
undertake  to  carry  her  safely  there.  What  better  guard 
should  a  daughter  have  than  her  father?" 

"Are  you  more  powerful  than  the  elements?  Can  you 
command  the  tempest?  Have  you  sufficient  armament  to 
combat  all  the  enemies  that  scour  the  seas?  If  any  accident 
befall  you,  what  is  this  promise  of  payment?  —  Nothing." 

"  At  least,  you  will  suffer  me  to  make  this  voyage  with  my 
child." 

"  I  do  not  purpose  to  send  her  to  Elche,"  returned  the 
old  man,  calmly.  "  Tis  a  risk  I  will  not  undertake.  I 
have  said  that  when  I  am  paid  three  thousand  ducats,  I  will 
give  Lala  Mollah  freedom,  and  I  will  keep  my  word.  To 


3l8  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

send  her  to  Elche  is  a  charge  that  does  not  touch  my  com- 
pact. This  I  will  write  and  tell  my  friend,  Sidi  ben  Ahmed, 
and  upon  his  payment  and  expressed  agreement  I  will  render 
you  your  daughter.  Not  before." 

We  could  say  nothing  for  a  while,  being  so  foundered  by 
this  reverse  ;  but  at  length  Dawson  says  in  a  piteous  voice  : 

"  At  least  you  will  suffer  me  to  see  my  daughter.  Think, 
if  she  were  yours  and  you  had  lost  her  —  believing  her  a 
while  dead  —  " 

Mohand  ou  Mohand  muttered  a  few  words  that  seemed 
to  fix  the  old  Moor's  wavering  resolution. 

"I  cannot  agree  to  that,"  says  he.  "Your  daughter  is 
becoming  reconciled  to  her  position.  To  see  you  would 
open  her  wounds  afresh  to  the  danger  of  her  life,  maybe. 
Reflect,"  adds  he,  laying  his  hand  on  the  letter,  "if  this 
business  should  come  to  nought,  what  could  recompense 
your  daughter  for  the  disappointment  of  those  false  hopes 
your  meeting  would  inspire  ?  It  cannot  be." 

With  this  he  claps  his  hands,  and  a  servant,  entering  at 
a  nod  from  his  master,  lifts  the  hangings  for  us  to  go. 

Dawson  stammered  a  few  broken  words  of  passionate  pro- 
test, and  then  breaking  down  as  he  perceived  the  folly  of 
resisting,  he  dropped  his  head  and  suffered  me  to  lead  him 
out.  As  I  saluted  the  Moors  in  going,  I  caught,  as  I  fan- 
cied, a  gleam  of  triumphant  gladness  in  the  dark  eyes  of 
Mohand  ou  Mohand. 

Coming  back  to  the  place  where  we  had  hid  our  bun- 
dles, Dawson  cast  himself  on  the  ground  and  gave  vent  to 
his  passion,  declaring  he  would  see  his  Moll  though  he 
should  tear  the  walls  down  to  get  at  her,  and  other  follies ; 
but  after  a  time  he  came  to  his  senses  again  so  that  he  could 


VERY    WEARISOME    DELAYS. 


reason,  and  then  I  persuaded  him  to  have  patience,  and  for- 
bear from  any  outburst  of  violence  such  as  we  had  been 
warned  against,  showing  him  that  certainly  Don  Sanchez, 
hearing  of  our  condition,  would  send  the  money  speedily, 
and  so  we  should  get  Moll  by  fair  means  instead  of  losing 
her  (and  ourselves)  by  foul;  that  after  all,  'twas  but  the 
delay  of  a  week  or  so  that  we  had  to  put  up  with,  and  so 
forth.  Then,  discussing  what  we  should  do  next,  I  offered 
that  we  should  return  to  Elche  and  make  our  case  known 
rather  than  trust  entirely  to  Ali  Oukadi's  promise  of  writ- 
ing ;  for  I  did  suspect  some  treacherous  design  on  the  part 
of  Mohand  ou  Mohand,  by  which  Mrs.  Godwin  failing  of 
her  agreement,  he  might  possess  himself  of  Moll  ;  and  this 
falling  in  with  Dawson's  wishes,  we  set  out  to  return  to 
Alger  forthwith.  But  getting  to  Alger  half-dead  with  the 
fatigue  of  trudging  all  that  distance  in  the  full  heat  of  the 
day,  we  learnt  to  our  chagrin  that  no  ship  would  be  sailing 
to  Elche  for  a  fortnight  at  the  least,  and  all  the  money  we 
had  would  not  tempt  any  captain  to  carry  us  there  ;  so  here 
were  we  cast  down  again  beyond  everything  for  miserable, 
gloomy  apprehensions. 

After  spending  another  day  in  fruitless  endeavour  to 
obtain  a  passage,  nothing  would  satisfy  Dawson's  painful, 
restless  spirit  but  we  must  return  to  Thadviir  ;  so  thither  we 
went  once  more  to  linger  about  the  palace  of  Ali  Oukadi,  in 
the  poor  hope  that  we  might  see  Moll  come  out  to  take 
the  air. 

One  day  as  we  were  standing  in  the  shade  of  the  garden 
wall,  sick  and  weary  with  dejection  and  disappointment, 
Dawson,  of  a  sudden,  starts  me  from  my  lethargy  by  clutch- 
ing my  arm  and  raising  his  finger  to  bid  me  listen  and  be 


32O  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

silent.  Then  straining  my  ear,  I  caught  the  distant  sound 
of  female  voices,  but  I  could  distinguish  not  one  from 
another,  though  by  Dawson's  joyous,  eager  look  I  perceived 
he  recognised  Moll's  voice  amongst  them.  They  came 
nearer  and  nearer,  seeking,  as  I  think,  the  shade  of  those 
palm  trees  which  sheltered  us.  And  presently,  quite  close 
to  us,  as  if  but  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall,  one  struck 
a  lute  and  began  to  sing  a  Moorish  song;  when  she  had 
concluded  her  melancholy  air  a  voice,  as  if  saddened  by  the 
melody,  sighed : 

"  Ah  me  !  ah  me  !  " 

There  was  no  misdoubting  that  sweet  voice  :  'twas  Moll's. 

Then  very  softly  Dawson  begins  to  whistle  her  old  favour- 
ite ditty  "  Hearts  will  break."  Scarce  had  he  finished  the 
refrain  when  Moll  within  took  it  up  in  a  faint  trembling 
voice,  but  only  a  bar,  to  let  us  know  we  were  heard ;  then 
she  fell  a-laughing  at  her  maids,  who  were  whispering  in 
alarm,  to  disguise  her  purpose ;  and  so  they  left  that  part, 
as  we  knew  by  their  voices  dying  away  in  the  distance. 

"  She'll  come  again,"  whispers  Dawson,  feverishly. 

And  he  was  in  the  right ;  for,  after  we  had  stood  there 
best  part  of  an  hour,  we  hear  Moll  again  gently  humming 
"  Hearts  will  break,"  but  so  low,  for  fear  of  being  heard  by 
others,  that  only  we  who  strained  so  hard  to  catch  a  sound 
could  be  aware  of  it. 

"  Moll,  my  love  !  "  whispers  Dawson,  as  she  comes  to  an 
end. 

"  Dear  father  !  "  answers  she,  as  low. 

"  We  are  here  —  Kit  and  I.  Be  comforted,  sweet  chuck, 
—  you  shall  be  free  ere  long." 

"Shall  I  climb  the  wall?"  asks  she. 


FALL  ONCE  MORE  INTO  TROUBLE.       321 

"No,  no,  —  for  God's  sake,  refrain  !"  says  I,  seeing  that 
Jack  was  half  minded  to  bid  her  come  to  him.  "  You  will 
undo  all  —  have  patience." 

At  this  moment  other  voices  came  to  us  from  within,  call- 
ing Lala  Mollah;  and  presently  the  quick  witch  answers 
them  from  a  distance,  with  a  laugh,  as  if  she  had  been 
playing  at  catch-who-can. 

Then  Dawson  and  I,  turning  about,  discovered  to  our 
consternation  AH  Oukadi  standing  quite  close  beside  us, 
with  folded  arms  and  bent  brows. 

"  You  are  unwise,"  says  he,  in  a  calm  tone. 

"  Nay,  master,"  says  Jack,  piteously.  "  I  did  but  speak 
a  word  to  my  child." 

"  If  you  understand  our  tongue,"  adds  I,  "  you  will  know 
that  we  did  but  bid  her  have  patience,  and  wait." 

"  Possibly,"  says  he.  "  Nevertheless,  you  compel  me 
henceforth  to  keep  her  a  close  prisoner,  when  I  would  give 
her  all  the  liberty  possible." 

"Master,"  says  Jack,  imploring,  "I  do  pray  you  not  to 
punish  her  for  my  fault.  Let  her  still  have  the  freedom  of 
your  garden,  and  I  promise  you  we  will  go  away  this  day 
and  return  no  more  until  we  can  purchase  her  liberty 
for  ever." 

"Good,"  says  the  old  man,  "but  mark  you  keep  your 
promise.  Know  that  'tis  an  offence  against  the  law  to 
incite  a  slave  to  revolt.  I  tell  you  this,  not  as  a  threat,  for 
I  bear  you  no  ill  will,  but  as  a  warning  to  save  you  from 
consequences  which  I  may  be  powerless  to  avert." 

This  did  seem  to  me  a  hint  at  some  sinister  design  of 
Mohand  ou  Mohand  —  a  wild  suspicion,    maybe,   on  my 
part,  and  yet,  as  I  think,  justified  by  evils  yet  to  come. 
Y 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

Of  our  bargaining  with  a  Moorish  seaman  ;  and  of  an  English  slave. 

WE  lost  no  time,  be  sure,  in  going  back  to  Alger,  bless- 
ing God  on  the  way  for  our  escape,  and  vowing  most 
heartily  that  we  would  be  led  into  no  future  folly,  no  mat- 
ter how  simple  and  innocent  the  temptation  might  seem. 

And  now  began  again  a  tedious  season  of  watching  on 
the  mole  of  Alger ;  but  not  to  make  this  business  as  weari- 
some to  others,  I  will  pass  that  over  and  come  at  once  to 
that  joyful,  happy  morning,  when,  with  but  scant  hope, 
looking  down  upon  the  deck  of  a  galley  entering  the  port, 
to  our  infinite  delight  and  amazement  we  perceived  Rich- 
ard Godwin  waving  his  hand  to  us  in  sign  of  recognition. 
Then  sure,  mad  with  joy,  we  would  have  cast  ourselves  in 
the  sea  had  we  thereby  been  able  to  get  to  him  more 
quickly.  Nor  was  he  much  less  moved  with  affection  to 
meet  us,  and  springing  on  the  quai  he  took  us  both  in  his 
open  arms  and  embraced  us.  But  his  first  word  was  of 
Moll.  "My  beloved  wife?  "  says  he,  and  could  question 
us  no  further. 

We  told  him  she  was  safe,  whereat  he  thanks  God  most 
fervently,  and  how  we  had  spoken  with  her;  and  then  he 
tells  us  of  his  adventures  —  how  on  getting  Don  Sanchez's 
letter  he  had  started  forth  at  once  with  such  help  as  Sir 
Peter  Lely  generously  placed  at  his  disposition,  and  how 
coming  to  Elche,  he  found  Mrs.  Godwin  there  in  great 

322 


OBTAIN    RELEASE    OF    MOLL.  323 

anxiety  because  we  had  not  returned,  and  how  Don  San- 
chez, guessing  at  our  case,  had  procured  money  from  To- 
ledo to  pay  Moll's  ransom,  and  did  further  charter  a  neutral 
galley  to  bring  him  to  Alger  —  which  was  truly  as  hand- 
some a  thing  as  any  man  could  do,  be  he  thief  or  no  thief. 
All  these  matters  we  discussed  on  our  way  to  the  Cassanabah, 
where  Mr.  Godwin  furnished  himself  as  we  had  with  a 
trader's  permit  for  twenty-eight  days. 

This  done,  we  set  out  with  a  team  of  good  mules,  and 
reaching  Thadviir  about  an  hour  before  sundown,  we  re- 
paired at  once  to  AH  Oukadi's,  who  received  us  with  much 
civility,  although  'twas  clear  to  see  he  was  yet  loath  to  give 
up  Moll;  but  the  sight  of  the  gold  Mr.  Godwin  laid  before 
him  did  smooth  the  creases  from  his  brow  (for  these  Moors 
love  money  before  anything  on  earth),  and  having  told  it 
carefully  he  writes  an  acknowledgment  and  fills  up  a 
formal  sheet  of  parchment  bearing  the  Dey's  seal,  which 
attested  that  Moll  was  henceforth  a  free  subject  and  en- 
titled to  safe-conduct  within  the  confines  of  the  Dey's 
administration.  And  having  delivered  these  precious 
documents  into  Mr.  Godwin's  hands,  he  leaves  us  for  a 
little  space  and  then  returns  leading  dear  Moll  by  the  hand. 
And  she,  not  yet  apprised  of  her  circumstances,  seeing  her 
husband  with  us,  gives  a  shrill  cry,  and  like  to  faint  with 
happiness  totters  forward  and  falls  in  his  ready  arms. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  tell  further  of  this  meeting  and  our 
passionate,  fond  embraces,  for  'twas  past  all  description; 
only  in  the  midst  of  our  joy  I  perceived  that  Mohand  ou 
Mohand  had  entered  the  room  and  stood  there,  a  silent 
spectator  of  Moll's  tender  yielding  to  her  husband's  ca- 
resses, his  nostrils  pinched,  and  his  jaundiced  face  overcast 


324  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

with  a  wicked  look  of  mortification  and  envy.  And  Moll 
seeing  him,  paled  a  little,  drawing  closer  to  her  husband; 
for,  as  I  learnt  later  on,  and  'twas  no  more  than  I  had 
guessed,  he  had  paid  her  most  assiduous  attentions  from 
the  first  moment  he  saw  her,  and  had  gone  so  far  as  to 
swear  by  Mahomet  that  death  alone  should  end  his  burning 
passion  to  possess  her.  And  I  observed  that  when  we 
parted,  and  Moll  in  common  civility  offered  him  her  hand, 
he  muttered  some  oath  as  he  raised  it  to  his  lips. 

Declining  as  civilly  as  we  might  Ali  Oukadi's  tender  of 
hospitality,  we  rested  that  night  at  the  large  inn  or  cara- 
vansary, and  I  do  think  that  the  joy  of  Moll  and  her  hus- 
band lying  once  more  within  each  other's  arms  was  scarcely 
less  than  we  felt,  Dawson  and  I,  at  this  happy  ending  of 
our  long  tribulations;  but  one  thing  it  is  safe  to  say,  we 
slept  as  sound  as  they. 

And  how  gay  were  we  when  we  set  forth  the  next  morn- 
ing for  Alger  —  Moll's  eyes  twinkling  like  stars  for  happi- 
ness, and  her  cheeks  all  pink  with  blushes  like  any  new 
bride,  her  husband  with  not  less  pride  than  passion  in  his 
noble  countenance,  and  Dawson  and  I  as  blithe  and  jolly 
as  schoolboys  on  a  holiday.  For  now  had  Moll  by  this  act 
of  heroism  and  devotion  redeemed  not  only  herself,  but  us 
also,  and  there  was  no  further  reason  for  concealment  or 
deceit,  but  all  might  be  themselves  and  fear  no  man. 

Thus  did  joy  beguile  us  into  a  false  sense  of  security. 

Coming  to  Alger  about  midday,  we  were  greatly  surprised 
to  find  that  the  sail  chartered  by  Don  Sanchez  was  no 
longer  in  the  port,  and  the  reason  of  this  we  presently 
learnt  was  that  the  Dey,  having  information  of  a  descent 
being  about  to  be  made  upon  the  town  by  the  British  fleet 


STILL    IN    GREAT   JEOPARDY.  32$ 

at  Tangier,  he  had  commanded,  the  night  before,  all  alien 
ships  to  be  gone  from  the  port  by  daybreak.  This  put  us 
to  a  quake,  for  in  view  of  this  descent  not  one  single 
Algerine  would  venture  to  put  to  sea  for  all  the  money 
Mr.  Godwin  could  offer  or  promise.  So  here  we  were 
forced  to  stay  in  trepidation  and  doubt  as  to  how  we,  being 
English,  might  fare  if  the  town  should  be  bombarded  as 
we  expected,  and  never  did  we  wish  our  own  countrymen 
further.  Only  our  Moll  and  her  husband  did  seem  careless 
in  their  happiness;  for  so  they  might  die  in  each  other's 
arms,  I  do  think  they  would  have  faced  death  with  a  smile 
upon  their  faces. 

However,  a  week  passing,  and  no  sign  of  any  English 
flag  upon  the  seas,  the  public  apprehension  subsided;  and 
now  we  began  very  seriously  to  compass  our  return  to  Elche, 
our  trader's  passes  (that  is,  Dawson's  and  mine)  being  run 
out  within  a  week,  and  we  knowing  full  well  that  we  should 
not  get  them  renewed  after  this  late  menace  of  an  English 
attack  upon  the  town.  So,  one  after  the  other,  we  tried 
every  captain  in  the  port,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  And  one 
of  these  did  openly  tell  me  the  Dey  had  forbidden  any 
stranger  to  be  carried  out  of  the  town,  on  pain  of  having 
his  vessel  confiscated  and  being  bastinadoed  to  his  last 
endurance. 

"And  so,"  says  he,  lifting  his  voice,  "if  you  offered 
me  all  the  gold  in  the  world,  I  would  not  carry  you  a 
furlong  hence."  But  at  the  same  time,  turning  his  back 
on  a  janizary  who  stood  hard  by,  he  gave  me  a  most 
significant  wink  and  a  little  beck,  as  if  I  were  to  follow 
him  presently. 

And  this  I  did  as  soon  as  the  janizary  was  gone,  follow* 


326  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

ing  him  at  a  distance  through  the  town  and  out  into  the 
suburbs,  at  an  idle,  sauntering  gait.  When  we  had  got  out 
beyond  the  houses,  to  the  side  of  the  river  I  have  men- 
tioned, he  sits  him  down  on  the  bank,  and  I,  coming  up, 
sit  down  beside  him  as  if  for  a  passing  chat.  Then  he, 
having  glanced  to  the  right  and  left,  to  make  sure  we  were 
not  observed,  asks  me  what  we  would  give  to  be  taken  to 
Elche;  and  I  answered  that  we  would  give  him  his  price 
so  we  could  be  conveyed  shortly. 

"When  would  you  go?  "  asks  he. 

"Why,"  says  I,  "our  passes  expire  at  sundown  after  the 
day  of  Ramadah,  so  we  must  get  hence,  by  hook  or  by 
crook,  before  that." 

"That  falls  as  pat  as  I  would  have  it,"  returns  he  (but 
not  in  these  words),  "for  all  the  world  will  be  up  at  the 
Cassanabah  on  that  day,  to  the  feast  the  Dey  gives  to  honour 
his  son's  coming  of  age.  Moreover,  the  moon  by  then 
will  not  rise  before  two  in  the  morning.  So  all  being  in 
our  favour,  I'm  minded  to  venture  on  this  business.  But 
you  must  understand  that 'I  dare  not  take  you  aboard  in  the 
port,  where  I  must  make  a  pretence  of  going  out  a-fishing 
with  my  three  sons,  and  give  the  janizaries  good  assurance 
that  no  one  else  is  aboard,  that  I  may  not  fall  into  trouble 
on  my  return." 

"That's  reasonable  enough,"  says  I,  "but  where  will  you 
take  us  aboard?  " 

"I'll  show  you,"  returns  he,  "if  you  will  stroll  down 
this  bank  with  me,  for  my  sons  and  I  have  discussed  this 
matter  ever  since  we  heard  you  were  seeking  a  ship  for  this 
project,  and  we  have  it  all  cut  and  dried  properly." 

So  up  we  get  and  saunter  along  the  bank  leisurely,  till  we 


OFFER    OF    A    FAIR-SPOKEN    MOOR. 


reached  a  part  where  the  river  spreads  out  very  broad  and 
shallow. 

"You  see  that  rock,"  says  he,  nodding  at  a  huge  boulder 
lapped  by  the  incoming  sea.  "  There  shall  you  be  at  mid- 
night. We  shall  lie  about  a  half  a  mile  out  to  sea,  and  two 
of  my  sons  will  pull  to  the  shore  and  take  you  up;  so  may 
all  go  well  and  nought  be  known,  if  you  are  commonly 
secret,  for  never  a  soul  is  seen  here  after  sundown." 

I  told  him  I  would  consult  with  my  friends  and  give  him 
our  decision  the  next  day,  meeting  him  at  this  spot. 

"Good,"  says  he,  "and  ere  you  decide,  you  may  cast  an 
eye  at  my  ship,  which  you  shall  know  by  a  white  moon 
painted  on  her  beam;  'tis  as  fast  a  ship  as  any  that  sails 
from  Alger,  though  she  carry  but  one  mast,  and  so  be  we 
agree  to  this  venture,  you  shall  find  the  cabin  fitted  for 
your  lady  and  everything  for  your  comfort." 

On  this  we  separated  presently,  and  I,  joining  my 
friends  at  our  inn,  laid  the  matter  before  them.  There 
being  still  some  light,  we  then  went  forth  on  the  mole, 
and  there  we  quickly  spied  the  White  Moon,  which,  though 
a  small  craft,  looked  very  clean,  and  with  a  fair  cabin 
house,  built  up  in  the  Moorish  fashion  upon  the  stern. 
And  here,  sitting  down,  we  all  agreed  to  accept  this  offer, 
Mr.  Godwin  being  not  less  eager  for  the  venture  than  we, 
who  had  so  much  more  to  dread  by  letting  it  slip,  though 
his  pass  had  yet  a  fortnight  to  run. 

So  the  next  day  I  repaired  to  the  rock,  and  meeting  Haroun 
(as  he  was  called),  I  closed  with  him,  and  put  a  couple  of 
ducats  in  his  hand  for  earnest  money. 

"'Tis  well,"  says  he,  pocketing  the  money,  after  kissing 
it  and  looking  up  to  heaven  with  a  "  Dill  an,"  which  means 


328  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

"It  is  from  God."  "We  will  not  meet  again  till  the  day 
of  Ramadah  at  midnight,  lest  we  fall  under  suspicion. 
Farewell." 

We  parted  as  we  did  before,  he  going  his  way,  and  I 
mine;  but,  looking  back  by  accident  before  I  had  gone  a 
couple  of  hundred  yards,  I  perceived  a  fellow  stealing 
forth  from  a  thicket  of  canes  that  stood  in  the  marshy 
ground  near  the  spot  where  I  had  lately  stood  with  Haroun, 
and  turning  again  presently,  I  perceived  this  man  follow- 
ing in  my  steps.  Then,  fairly  alarmed,  I  gradually  has- 
tened my  pace  (but  not  so  quick  neither  as  to  seem  to  fly), 
making  for  the  town,  where  I  hoped  to  escape  pursuit  in 
the  labyrinth  of  little,  crooked,  winding  alleys.  As  I 
rounded  a  corner,  I  perceived  him  out  of  the  tail  of  my 
eye,  still  following,  but  now  within  fifty  yards  of  me,  he 
having  run  to  thus  overreach  me ;  and  ere  I  had  turned  up 
a  couple  of  alleys  he  was  on  my  heels  and  twitching  me  by 
the  sleeve. 

"  Lord  love  you,  Master,"  says  he,  in  very  good  English, 
but  gasping  for  breath.  "  Hold  hard  a  moment,  for 
I've  a  thing  or  two  to  say  to  you  as  is  worth  your 
hearing." 

So  I,  mightily  surprised  by  these  words,  stop ;  and  he  see- 
ing the  alley  quite  empty  and  deserted,  sits  down  on  a  door- 
step, and  I  do  likewise,  both  of  us  being  spent  with  our 
exertions. 

"  Was  that  man  you  were  talking  with  a  little  while  back 
named  Haroun?  "  asks  he,  when  he  could  fetch  his  breath. 
I  nodded. 

"Did  he  offer  to  take  you  and  three  others  to  Elche, 
aboard  a  craft  called  the  White  Moon?" 


DISCOURSE    OF    AN    ENGLISH    SLAVE.  329 

I  nodded  again,  astonished  at  his  information,  for  we  had 
not  discussed  our  design  to-day,  Haroun  and  I. 

"  Did  he  offer  to  carry  you  off  in  a  boat  to  his  craft  from 
the  rock  on  the  mouth?  " 

Once  more  I  nodded. 

"  Can  you  guess  what  will  happen  if  you  agree  to  this?  " 

Now  I  shook  my  head. 

"The  villain,"  says  he,  "will  run  you  on  a  shoal,  and 
there  will  he  be  overhauled  by  the  janizaries,  and  you  be 
carried  prisoners  back  to  Alger.  Your  freedom  will  be  for- 
feited, and  you  will  be  sold  for  slaves.  And  that's  not  all," 
adds  he ;  "  the  lass  you  have  with  you  will  be  taken  from 
you  and  given  to  Mohand  ou  Mohand,  who  has  laid  this 
trap  for  your  destruction  and  the  gratification  of  his  lust." 

I  fell  a-shaking  only  to  think  of  this  crowning  calamity, 
and  could  only  utter  broken,  unintelligible  sounds  to  ex- 
press my  gratitude  for  this  warning. 

"  Listen,  Master,  if  you  cannot  speak,"  said  he  ;  "  for  I 
must  quit  you  in  a  few  minutes,  or  get  my  soles  thrashed 
when  I  return  home.  What  I  have  told  you  is  true,  as 
there  is  a  God  in  heaven ;  'twas  overheard  by  my  comrade, 
who  is  a  slave  in  Mohand's  household.  If  you  escape  this 
trap,  you  will  fall  in  another,  for  there  is  no  bounds  to 
Mohand's  devilish  cunning.  I  say,  if  you  stay  here  you 
are  doomed  to  share  our  miserable  lot,  by  one  device  or 
another.  But  I  will  show  you  how  you  may  turn  the 
tables  on  this  villain,  and  get  to  a  Christian  country  ere 
you  are  a  week  older,  if  you  have  but  one  spark  of  courage 
amongst  you." 


CHAPTER  XL. 

Of  our  escape  from  Barbary,  of  the  pursuit  and  horrid,  fearful  slaugh- 
ter that  followed,  together  with  other  moving  circumstances. 

So  Groves,  as  my  man  was  named,  told  me  how  he  and 
eight  other  poor  Englishmen,  sharing  the  same  bagnio,  had 
endured  the  hardships  and  misery  of  slavery,  some  for  thir- 
teen, and  none  less  than  seven,  years ;  how  for  three  years 
they  had  been  working  a  secret  tunnel  by  which  they  could 
escape  from  their  bagnio  (in  which  they  were  locked  up 
every  night  at  sundown)  at  any  moment ;  how  for  six 
months,  since  the  completion  of  their  tunnel,  they  had  been 
watching  a  favourable  opportunity  to  seize  a  ship  and  make 
good  their  escape  (seven  of  them  being  mariners);  and  how 
now  they  were,  by  tedious  suspense,  wrought  to  such  a  pitch 
of  desperation  that  they  were  ripe  for  any  means  of  winning 
their  freedom.  "  And  here,"  says  he,  in  conclusion,  "  hath 
merciful  Providence  given  us  the  power  to  save  not  only 
ourselves  from  this  accursed  bondage,  but  you,  also,  if  you 
are  minded  to  join  us." 

Asking  him  how  he  proposed  to  accomplish  this  end, 
he  replies : 

"  Tis  as  easy  as  kiss  your  hand.  First,  do  you  accept 
Haroun's  offer?" 

"I  have,"  says  I. 

"Good  !  "  says  he,  rubbing  his  hands,  and  speaking  thick 
with  joy.  "  You  may  be  sure  that  Mohand  will  suffer  no 

330 


JOE    GROVES,    HIS    DEVICE.  331 

one  to  interfere  with  your  getting  aboard,  to  the  achieve- 
ment of  his  design.  When  is  it  to  be?" 

I  hesitated  a  moment,  lest  I  should  fall  into  another 
trap,  trying  to  escape  from  the  first ;  but,  seeing  he  was  an 
Englishman,  I  would  not  believe  him  capable  of  playing  into 
the  Turks'  hands  for  our  undoing,  and  so  I  told  him  our 
business  was  for  midnight  on  the  feast  of  Ramadah. 

"  Sure,  nought  but  Providence  could  have  ordered  matters 
so  well,"  says  he,  doubling  himself  up,  as  if  unable  to  control 
his  joy.  "We  shall  be  there,  we  nine  sturdy  men.  Some 
shall  hide  in  the  canes,  and  others  behind  the  rock ;  and 
when  Haroun  rows  to  shore,  four  of  us  will  get  into  his  boat 
(muffled  up  as  you  would  be  to  escape  detection),  and  as 
soon  as  they  lay  themselves  to  their  oars,  their  business 
shall  be  settled." 

"As  how?"  asks  I,  shrinking  (as  ever)  from  deeds  of 
violence. 

"Leave  that  to  us;  but  be  assured  they  shall  not  raise 
a  cry  that  shall  fright  your  lady.  Oh,  we  know  the  use 
of  a  bow-string  as  well  as  any  Turk  amongst  them.  We 
have  that  to  thank  'em  for.  Well,  these  two  being  de- 
spatched, we  return  to  shore,  and  two  more  of  our  men 
will  get  in ;  then  we  four  to  the  felucca,  and  there  boarding, 
we  serve  the  others  as  we  served  the  first  two;  so  back 
comes  one  of  us  to  fetch  off  our  other  comrades  and  you 
four.  Then,  all  being  aboard,  we  cut  our  cable,  up  with 
our  sail,  and  by  the  time  Mohand  comes,  in  the  morning, 
to  seek  his  game  on  the  sand-bank,  we  shall  be  half  way  to 
Elche,  and  farther,  if  Providence  do  keep  pace  with  this 
happy  beginning.  What  say  you,  friend?  "  adds  he,  noting 
my  reflective  mood. 


332  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

Then  I  frankly  confessed  that  I  would  have  some  assur- 
ance of  his  honesty. 

"  I  can  give  you  none,  Master,"  says  he,  "  but  the  word 
of  a  good  Yorkshireman.  Surely,  you  may  trust  me  as  I 
trust  you ;  for  'tis  in  your  power  to  reveal  all  to  Haroun, 
and  so  bring  us  all  to  the  galleys.  Have  you  no  faith  in 
a  poor  broken  Englishman?  " 

"Yes,"  says  I ;  "  I'll  trust  you." 

Then  we  rose,  clapping  hands,  and  he  left  me,  with  tears 
of  gratitude  and  joy  in  his  eyes.  Telling  my  friends  I  had 
something  of  a  secret  nature  to  impart,  we  went  out  to  the 
end  of  the  mole,  where  we  were  secure  from  eavesdroppers, 
and  there  I  laid  the  whole  story  before  them,  whereupon 
we  fell  debating  what  we  should  do,  looking  at  this  matter 
from  every  side,  with  a  view  to  our  security;  but,  slavery 
lying  before  us,  and  no  better  means  of  escaping  it  coming 
to  our  minds,  we  did  at  last  unanimously  agree  to  trust  Joe 
Groves  rather  than  Haroun. 

The  next  day  there  fell  a  great  deluge  of  rain,  and  the 
morrow  being  the  feast  of  Ramadah,  we  regarded  this  as 
highly  favourable  to  our  escape ;  for  here  when  rain  falls  it 
ceases  not  for  forty-eight  hours,  and  thus  might  we  count 
upon  the  aid  of  darkness.  And  that  evening  as  we  were  re- 
garding some  merchandise  in  a  bazaar,  a  fellow  sidles  up 
to  me,  and  whispers  (fingering  a  piece  of  cloth  as  if  he  were 
minded  to  buy  it): 

"Does  all  go  well?" 

Then  perceiving  this  was  Joe  Groves,  I  answered  in  the 
same  manner : 

"All  goes  well." 

"To-morrow  at  midnight?  " 


DESPERATE    DOINGS.  333 

"  To-morrow  at  midnight,"  I  return.  Upon  which,  cast- 
ing down  the  cloth,  he  goes  away  without  further  sign. 

And  now  comes  in  the  feast  of  Ramadah  with  a  heavy, 
steady  downpour  of  rain  all  day,  and  no  sign  of  ceasing  at 
sundown,  which  greatly  contented  us.  About  ten,  the  house 
we  lodged  in  being  quite  still,  and  our  fear  of  accident 
pressing  us  to  depart,  we  crept  silently  out  into  the  street 
without  let  or  hindrance  (though  I  warrant  some  spy  of 
Mohand's  was  watching  to  carry  information  of  our  flight  to 
his  master),  and  so  through  the  narrow  deserted  alleys  to 
the  outskirts  of  the  town,  and  thence  by  the  river  side  to  the 
great  rock,  with  only  just  so  much  light  as  enabled  us  to 
hang  together,  and  no  more.  And  I  do  believe  we  should 
have  floundered  into  the  river  o'  one  side  of  the  marsh  of 
canes  or  t'other,  but  that  having  gone  over  this  road  the 
last  time  with  the  thought  that  it  might  lead  us  to  liberty, 
every  object  by  the  way  impressed  itself  upon  my  mind 
most  astonishingly. 

Here  under  this  rock  stood  we  above  an  hour  with  no 
sound  but  the  beating  of  the  rain,  and  the  lap  of  the  water 
running  in  from  the  sea.  Then,  as  it  might  be  about  half- 
past  eleven,  a  voice  close  beside  us  (which  I  knew  for  Joe 
Groves,  though  I  could  see  no  one  but  us  four,  Jack  by  my 
side,  and  Moll  bound  close  to  her  husband)  says : 

"All  goes  well?" 

"  Yes,  all  goes  well,"  says  I ;  whereupon  he  gives  a  cry  like 
the  croak  of  a  frog,  and  his  comrades  steal  up  almost  unseen 
and  unheard,  save  that  each  as  he  came  whispered  his  name, 
as  Spinks,  Davis,  Lee,  Best,  etc.,  till  their  number  was  all  told. 
Then  Groves,  who  was  clearly  chosen  their  captain,  calls 
Spinks,  Lee,  and  Best  to  stand  with  him,  and  bids  the  others 


334  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

and  us  to  stand  back  against  the  canes  till  we  are  called. 
So  we  do  his  bidding,  and  fall  back  to  the  growth  of 
canes,  whence  we  could  but  dimly  make  out  the  mass  of 
the  rock  for  the  darkness,  and  there  waited  breathless,  lis- 
tening for  the  sound  of  oars.  But  these  Moors,  for  a  bet- 
ter pretence  of  secrecy,  had  muffled  their  oars,  so  that  we 
knew  not  they  were  at  hand  until  we  heard  Haroun's  voice 
speaking  low. 

"  Englishmen,  are  you  there  ?  "  asks  he. 

"Aye,  we  four,"  whispers  Groves,  in  reply. 

Then  we  hear  them  wade  into  the  water  and  get  into  the 
boat  with  whispering  of  Haroun  where  they  are  to  dispose 
themselves,  and  so  forth.  After  that  silence  for  about  ten 
minutes,  and  no  sound  but  the  ceaseless  rain  until  we  next 
hear  Groves'  voice. 

"  Davis,  Negus,"  whispers  he,  on  which  two  of  our  num- 
ber leave  us  and  go  out  to  the  boat  to  replace  Haroun  and 
that  other  Moor,  who,  in  the  manner  of  the  Turks,  had  been 
strangled  and  cast  overboard. 

And  now  follows  a  much  longer  period  of  silence,  but  at 
length  that  comes  to  an  end,  and  we  hear  Groves'  voice 
again  whispering  us  to  come.  At  the  first  sound  of  his  voice 
his  three  comrades  rush  forward ;  but  Groves,  recognising 
them,  says  hoarsely,  "  Back,  every  one  of  you  but  those  I 
called,  or  I'll  brain  you  !  There's  room  but  for  six  in  the  boat, 
and  those  who  helped  us  shall  go  first,  as  I  ordered.  The 
rest  must  wait  their  time." 

So  these  fellows,  who  would  have  ousted  us,  give  way, 
grumbling,  and  Mr.  Godwin  carrying  Moll  to  the  boat,  Daw- 
son  and  I  wade  in  after  him,  and  so,  with  great  gratitude, 
take  our  places  as  Groves  directs.  We  being  in,  he  and  his 


PURSUED    BY    A    GALLEY.  335 

mate  lay  to  their  oars,  and  pull  out  to  the  felucca,  guided 
by  the  lanthorn  on  her  bulwarks. 

Having  put  us  aboard  safely,  Groves  and  his  mate  fetch 
the  three  fellows  that  remained  ashore,  and  now  all  being 
embarked,  they  abandon  the  small  boat,  slip  the  anchor, 
and  get  out  their  long  sweeps,  all  in  desperate  haste ;  for 
that  absence  of  wind,  which  I  at  first  took  to  be  a  blessing, 
appeared  now  to  be  a  curse,  and  our  main  hope  of  escape 
lay  in  pulling  far  out  to  sea  before  Mohand  discovered  the 
trick  put  upon  him,  and  gave  chase.  All  night  long  we 
toiled  with  most  savage  energy,  dividing  our  number  into 
two  batches,  so  that  one  might  go  to  the  oars  as  the  other 
tired,  turn  and  turn  about.  Not  one  of  us  but  did  his 
utmost  —  nay,  even  Moll  would  stand  by  her  husband,  and 
strain  like  any  man  at  this  work.  But  for  all  our  labour, 
Alger  was  yet  in  sight  when  the  break  of  day  gave  us  light 
to  see  it.  Then  was  every  eye  searching  the  waters  for 
sign  of  a  sail,  be  it  to  save  or  to  undo  us.  Sail  saw  we  none, 
but  about  nine  o'clock  Groves,  scanning  the  waters  over 
against  Alger,  perceived  something  which  he  took  to  be  a 
galley ;  nor  were  we  kept  long  in  uncertainty,  for  by  ten  it 
was  obvious  to  us  all,  showing  that  it  had  gained  considerably 
upon  us  in  spite  of  our  frantic  exertions,  which  convinced  us 
that  this  was  Mohand,  and  that  he  had  discovered  us  with 
the  help  of  a  spy-glass,  maybe. 

At  the  prospect  of  being  overtaken  and  carried  back  to 
slavery,  a  sort  of  madness  possessed  those  at  the  oars,  the 
first  oar  pulling  with  such  a  fury  of  violence  that  it  snapped 
at  the  rowlock,  and  was  of  no  further  use.  Still  we  made 
good  progress,  but  what  could  we  with  three  oars  do  against 
the  galley  which  maybe  was  mounted  with  a  dozen  ?  Some 


33^  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

were  for  cutting  down  the  mast  and  throwing  spars,  sails, 
and  every  useless  thing  overboard  to  lighten  our  ship,  but 
Groves  would  not  hear  of  this,  seeing  by  a  slant  in  the 
rain  that  a  breeze  was  to  be  expected ;  and  surely  enough, 
the  rain  presently  smote  us  on  the  cheek  smartly,  where- 
upon Groves  ran  up  our  sail,  which,  to  our  infinite  delight, 
did  presently  swell  out  fairly,  careening  us  so  that  the  oar 
on  t'other  side  was  useless. 

But  that  which  favoured  us  favoured  also  our  enemies, 
and  shortly  after  we  saw  two  sails  go  up  to  match  our  one. 
Then  Groves  called  a  council  of  us  and  his  felloVs,  and  his 
advice  was  this :  that  ere  the  galley  drew  nigh  enough  for 
our  number  to  be  sighted,  he  and  his  fellows  should  bestow 
themselves  away  in  the  stern  cabin,  and  lie  there  with  such 
arms  of  knives  and  spikes  as  they  had  brought  with  them 
ready  to  their  hands,  and  that,  on  Mohand  boarding  us 
with  his  men,  we  four  should  retire  towards  the  cabin, 
when  he  and  his  comrades  would  spring  forth  and  fight 
every  man  to  the  death  for  freedom.  And  he  held  out 
good  promise  of  a  successful  issue.  "  For,"  says  he,  "know- 
ing you  four  "  (meaning  us)  "  are  unarmed,  'tis  not  likely  he 
will  have  furnished  himself  with  any  great  force ;  and  as 
his  main  purpose  is  to  possess  this  lady,  he  will  not  suffer 
his  men  to  use  their  firepieces  to  the  risk  of  her  de- 
struction ;  therefore,"  adds  he,  "  if  you  have  the  stomach 
for  your  part  of  this  business,  which  is  but  to  hold  the 
helm  as  I  direct,  all  must  go  well.  But  for  the  lady,  if 
she  hath  any  fear,  we  may  find  a  place  in  the  cabin  for 
her." 

This  proposal  was  accepted  by  all  with  gladness,  except 
Moll,  who  would  on  no  account  leave  her  husband's  side ; 


BOARDED    BY    THE    MOORS.  337 

but  had  he  not  been  there,  I  believe  she  would  have  been 
the  last  aboard  to  feel  fear,  or  play  a  cowardly  part. 

So  without  further  parley,  the  fellows  crept  into  the  little 
cabin,  each  fingering  his  naked  weapon,  which  made  me 
feel  very  sick  with  apprehension  of  bloodshed. 

The  air  of  wind  freshening,  we  kept  on  at  a  spanking  rate 
for  another  hour,  Groves  lying  on  the  deck  with  his  eyes 
just  over  the  bulwarks  and  giving  orders  to  Dawson  and  me, 
who  kept  the  helm  ;  then  the  galley,  being  within  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  of  us,  fired  a  shot  as  a  signal  to  us  to  haul  down 
our  sail,  and  this  having  no  effect,  he  soon  after  fires  another, 
which,  striking  us  in  the  stem,  sent  great  splinters  flying  up 
from  the  bulwarks  there. 

"  Hold  her  helm,  stiff,"  whispers  Groves,  and  then  he  backs 
cautiously  into  the  cabin  without  rising  from  his  belly,  for 
the  men  aboard  the  galley  were  now  clearly  distinguishable. 

Presently  bang  goes  another  gun,  and  the  same  moment, 
its  shot  taking  our  mast  a  yard  or  so  above  the  deck,  our 
lateen  falls  over  upon  the  water  with  a  great  slap,  and  so  are 
we  brought  to  at  once. 

Dropping  her  sail,  the  galley  sweeps  up  alongside  us,  and 
casting  out  divers  hooks  and  tackle  they  held  ready  for  their 
purpose,  they  grappled  us  securely.  My  heart  sank  within 
me  as  I  perceived  the  number  of  our  enemies,  thirty  or  forty, 
as  I  reckon  (but  happily  not  above  half  a  dozen  armed 
men),  and  Mohand  ou  Mohand  amongst  them  with  a  scimi- 
tar in  his  hand ;  for  now  I  foresaw  the  carnage  which  must 
ensue  when  we  were  boarded. 

Mohand  ou  Mohand  was  the  first  to  spring  upon  our  deck, 
and  behind  came  his  janizaries  and  half  a  score  of  seamen. 
We  four,  Mr.  Godwin  holding  Moll's  hand  in  his,  stood  in 
z 


33$  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

a  group  betwixt  Mohand  and  his  men  and  the  cabin  where 
Joe  Groves  lay  with  his  fellows,  biding  his  time.  One  of  the 
janizaries  was  drawing  his  scimitar,  but  Mohand  bade  him 
put  it  up,  and  making  an  obeisance  to  Moll,  he  told  us  we 
should  suffer  no  hurt  if  we  surrendered  peaceably. 

"Never,  you  Turkish  thief!"  cries  Dawson,  shaking  his 
fist  at  him. 

Mohand  makes  a  gesture  of  regret,  and  turning  to  his 
men  tells  them  to  take  us,  but  to  use  no  weapons,  since  we 
had  none.  Then,  he  himself  leading,  with  his  eyes  fixed 
hungrily  upon  Moll,  the  rest  came  on,  and  we  fell  back 
towards  the  cabin. 

The  next  instant,  with  a  wild  yell  of  fury,  the  hidden  men 
burst  out  of  the  cabin,  and  then  followed  a  scene  of  butch- 
ery which  I  pray  Heaven  it  may  nevermore  be  my  fate  to 
witness. 

Groves  was  the  first  to  spill  blood.  Leaping  upon 
Mohand,  he  buried  a  long  curved  knife  right  up  to  the  hilt 
in  his  neck  striking  downwards  just  over  the  collar  bone, 
and  he  fell,  the  blood  spurting  from  his  mouth  upon  the 
deck.  At  the  same  time  our  men,  falling  upon  the  jani- 
zaries, did  most  horrid  battle  —  nay,  'twas  no  battle,  but 
sheer  butchery ;  for  these  men,  being  taken  so  suddenly, 
had  no  time  to  draw  their  weapons,  and  could  only  fly  to 
the  fore  end  of  the  boat  for  escape,  where,  by  reason  of 
their  number  and  the  narrow  confines  of  the  deck,  they 
were  so  packed  and  huddled  together  that  none  could  raise 
his  hand  to  ward  a  blow  even,  and  so  stood,  a  writhing, 
shrieking  mass  of  humanity,  to  be  hacked  and  stabbed  and 
ripped  and  cut  down  to  their  death. 

And  their   butchers  had  no   mercy.     They  could  think 


THE    END    OF    THAT    BUSINESS.  339 

only  of  their  past  wrongs,  and  of  satiating  the  thirst  for 
vengeance,  which  had  grown  to  a  madness  by  previous 
restraint. 

"There's  for  thirteen  years  of  misery,"  cries  one,  driving 
his  spike  into  the  heart  of  one.  "  Take  that  for  hanging  of 
my  brother,"  screams  a  second,  cleaving  a  Moor's  skull  with 
his  hatchet.  "  Quits  for  turning  an  honest  lad  into  a  devil," 
calls  a  third,  drawing  his  knife  across  the  throat  of  a  shriek- 
ing wretch,  and  so  forth,  till  not  one  of  all  the  crowd  was  left 
to  murder. 

Then  still  devoured  by  their  lust  for  blood,  they  swarmed 
over  the  side  of  the  galley  to  finish  this  massacre  —  Groves 
leading  with  a  shout  of  "  No  quarter,"  and  all  echoing  these 
words  with  a  roar  of  joy.  But  here  they  were  met  with  some 
sort  of  resistance,  for  the  Moors  aboard,  seeing  the  fate  of 
their  comrades,  forewarning  them  of  theirs,  had  turned  their 
swivel  gun  about  and  now  fired  —  the  ball  carrying  off  the 
head  of  Joe  Groves,  the  best  man  of  all  that  crew,  if  one 
were  better  than  another.  But  this  only  served  to  incense 
the  rest  the  more,  and  so  they  went  at  their  cruel  work 
again,  and  ceased  not  till  the  last  of  their  enemies  was  dead. 
Then,  with  a  wild  hurrah,  they  signal  their  triumph,  and 
one  fellow,  holding  up  his  bloody  hands,  smears  them  over 
his  face  with  a  devilish  scream  of  laughter. 

And  now,  caring  no  more  for  us  or  what  might  befall  us, 
than  for  the  Turks  who  lay  all  mangled  on  our  deck,  one 
cuts  away  the  tackle  that  lashes  their  galley  to  us,  while  the 
rest  haul  up  the  sail,  and  so  they  go  their  way,  leaving  us 
to  shift  for  ourselves. 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

How  Dawson  counts  himself  an  unlucky  man  who  were  best  dead ;  and 
so  he  quits  us,  and  /,  the  reader. 

THE  galley  bent  over  to  the  wind  and  sped  away,  and  I 
watched  her  go  without  regret,  not  thinking  of  our  own  hap- 
less condition,  but  only  of  the  brutal  ferocity  of  that  mad 
crew  aboard  her. 

Their  shouts  of  joy  and  diabolical  laughter  died  away, 
and  there  was  no  sound  but  the  lapping  of  the  waves  against 
the  felucca's  side.  They  had  done  their  work  thoroughly ; 
not  a  moan  arose  from  the  heaps  of  butchered  men,  not  a 
limb  moved,  but  all  were  rigid,  some  lying  in  grotesque 
postures  as  the  death  agony  had  drawn  them.  And  after 
the  tumult  that  had  prevailed  this  stillness  of  death  was 
terrific.  From  looking  over  this  ghastly  picture  I  turned 
and  clutched  at  Dawson's  hand  for  some  comforting  sense 
of  life  and  humanity. 

We  were  startled  at  this  moment  by  a  light  laugh  from 
the  cabin,  whither  Mr.  Godwin  had  carried  Moll,  fainting 
with  the  horror  of  this  bloody  business,  and  going  in  there 
we  found  her  now  lying  in  a  little  crib,  light-headed, 
—  clean  out  of  her  wits  indeed,  for  she  fancied  herself  on 
the  dusty  road  to  Valencia,  taking  her  first  lesson  in  the 
fandango  from  Don  Sanchez.  Mr.  Godwin  knelt  by  the 
cot  side,  with  his  arm  supporting  her  head,  and  soothing 
her  the  best  he  could.  We  found  a  little  cask  of  water 

340 


WE    SPRING    A    LEAK.  341 

and  a  cup,  that  he  might  give  her  drink,  and  then,  seeing 
we  could  be  of  no  further  service,  Dawson  and  I  went  from 
the  cabin,  our  thoughts  awaking  now  to  the  peril  of  our 
position,  without  sail  in  mid-sea. 

And  first  we  cast  our  eyes  all  round  about  the  sea,  but 
we  could  descry  no  sail  save  the  galley  (and  that  at  a  great 
distance),  nor  any  sign  of  land.  Next,  casting  our  eyes 
upon  the  deck,  we  perceived  that  the  thick  stream  of  blood 
that  lay  along  that  side  bent  over  by  the  broken  mast,  was 
greatly  spread,  and  not  so  black,  but  redder,  which  was 
only  to  be  explained  by  the  mingling  of  water;  and  this 
was  our  first  notice  that  the  felucca  was  filling  and  we 
going  down. 

Recovering  presently  from  the  stupor  into  which  this 
suspicion  threw  us,  we  pulled  up  a  hatch,  and  looking  down 
into  the  hold  perceived  that  this  was  indeed  true,  a  pun- 
cheon floating  on  the  water  there  within  arms'  reach. 
Thence,  making  our  way  quickly  over  the  dead  bodies, 
which  failed  now  to  terrify  us,  to  the  fore  part  of  our  fe- 
lucca, we  discovered  that  the  shot  which  had  hit  us  had 
started  a  plank,  and  that  the  water  leaked  in  with  every  lap 
of  a  wave.  So  now,  our  wits  quickened  by  our  peril,  we  took 
a  scimitar  and  a  dirk  from  a  dead  janizary,  to  cut  away  the 
cordage  that  lashed  us  to  the  fallen  mast,  to  free  us  of  that 
burden  and  right  the  ship  if  we  might.  But  ere  we  did 
this,  Dawson,  spying  the  great  sail  lying  out  on  the  water, 
bethought  him  to  hack  out  a  great  sheet  as  far  as  we  could 
reach,  and  this  he  took  to  lay  over  the  started  plank  and 
staunch  the  leakage,  while  I  severed  the  tackle  and  freed 
us  from  the  great  weight  of  the  hanging  mast  and  long 
spar.  And  certainly  we  thought  ourselves  safe  when  this 


342  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

was  done,  for  the  hull  lifted  at  once  and  righted  itself  upon 
the  water.  Nevertheless,  we  were  not  easy,  for  we  knew 
not  what  other  planks  below  the  water  line  were  injured, 
nor  how  to  sink  our  sheet  or  bind  it  over  the  faulty 
part.  So,  still  further  to  lighten  us,  we  mastered  our 
qualms  and  set  to  work  casting  the  dead  bodies  overboard. 
This  horrid  business,  at  another  time,  would  have  made  me 
sick  as  any  dog,  but  there  was  no  time  to  yield  to  mawkish 
susceptibilities  in  the  face  of  such  danger  as  menaced 
us.  Only  when  all  was  done,  I  did  feel  very  weakened 
and  shaky,  and  my  gorge  rising  at  the  look  of  my  jerkin, 
all  filthy  with  clotted  blood,  I  tore  it  off  and  cast  it  in  the 
sea,  as  also  did  Dawson;  and  so,  to  turn  our  thoughts 
(after  washing  of  our  hands  and  cleaning  our  feet),  we 
looked  over  the  side,  and  agreed  that  we  were  no  lower 
than  we  were,  but  rather  higher  for  having  lightened  our 
burden.  But  no  sail  anywhere  on  the  wide  sea  to  add  to 
our  comfort. 

Going  into  the  cabin,  we  found  that  our  dear  Moll  had 
fallen  into  a  sleep,  but  was  yet  very  feverish,  as  we  could 
see  by  her  frequent  turning,  her  sudden  starts,  and  the 
dreamy,  vacant  look  in  her  eyes,  when  she  opened  them 
and  begged  for  water.  We  would  not  add  to  Mr.  Godwin's 
trouble  by  telling  him  of  ours  (our  minds  being  still  rest- 
less with  apprehensions  of  the  leak),  but  searching  about, 
and  discovering  two  small,  dry  loaves,  we  gave  him  one, 
and  took  the  other  to  divide  betwixt  us,  Dawson  and  I. 
And  truly  we  needed  this  refreshment  (as  our  feeble,  shaking 
limbs  testified),  after  all  our  exertions  of  the  night  and  day 
(it  being  now  high  noon),  having  eaten  nothing  since  sup- 
per the  night  before.  But,  famished  as  we  were,  we  must 


PERCEIVE    WE    ARE    FOUNDERING.  343 

needs  steal  to  the  side  and  look  over  to  mark  where  the 
water  rose;  and  neither  of  us  dared  say  the  hull  was  no 
lower,  for  we  perceived  full  well  it  had  sunk  somewhat  in 
the  last  hour. 

Jack  took  a  bite  of  his  loaf,  and  offered  me  the  rest, 
saying  he  had  no  stomach  for  food;  but  I  could  not  eat  my 
own,  and  so  we  thrust  the  bread  in  our  breeches  pockets 
and  set  to  work,  heaving  everything  overboard  that  might 
lighten  us,  and  for  ever  a-straining  our  eyes  to  sight  a  ship. 
Then  we  set  to  devising  means  to  make  the  sheet  cling  over 
the  damaged  planks,  but  to  little  purpose,  and  so  Dawson 
essayed  to  get  at  it  from  the  inside  by  going  below,  but  the 
water  was  risen  so  high  there  was  no  room  between  it  and 
the  deck  to  breathe,  and  so  again  to  wedging  the  canvas  in 
from  the  outside  till  the  sun  sank.  And  by  that  time  the 
water  was  beginning  to  lap  up  through  the  hatchway.  Then 
no  longer  able  to  blink  the  truth,  Jack  turns  to  me  and  asks : 

"  How  long  shall  we  last?  " 

"Why,"  says  I,  "we  have  sunk  no  more  than  a  foot 
these  last  six  hours,  and  at  this  slow  pace  we  may  well  last 
out  eight  or  nine  more  ere  the  water  comes  over  the  bul- 
warks." 

He  shook  his  head  ruefully,  and,  pointing  to  a  sluice 
hole  in  the  side,  said  he  judged  it  must  be  all  over  with 
us  when  the  water  entered  there. 

"Why,  in  that  case,"  says  I,  "let  us  find  something  to 
fill  the  sluice  hole." 

So  having  nothing  left  on  deck,  we  went  into  the  cabin  on 
a  pretence  of  seeing  how  Moll  fared,  and  Jack  sneaked  away 
an  old  jacket  and  I  a  stone  bottle,  and  with  these  we  stopped 
the  sluice  hole  the  best  we  could. 


344  A    SET    OF    ROGUES. 

By  the  time  we  had  made  a  job  of  this  'twas  quite  dark, 
and  having  nothing  more  to  do  but  to  await  the  end,  we 
stood  side  by  side,  too  dejected  to  speak  for  some  time, 
thinking  of  the  cruelty  of  fate  which  rescued  us  from  one 
evil  only  to  plunge  us  in  a  worse.  At  length,  Jack  fell  to 
talking  in  a  low  tone  of  his  past  life,  showing  how  things  had 
ever  gone  ill  with  him  and  those  he  loved. 

"  I  think,"  says  he  in  conclusion,  "  I  am  an  unlucky  man, 
Kit.  One  of  those  who  are  born  to  be  a  curse  against  their 
will  to  others  rather  than  a  blessing." 

"Fie,  Jack,"  says  I,  "  'tis  an  idle  superstition." 

"  Nay,"  says  he,  "  I  am  convinced  'tis  the  truth.  Not 
one  of  us  here  but  would  have  been  the  happier  had  I  died 
a  dozen  years  ago.  'Tis  all  through  me  that  we  drown 
to-night." 

"  Nay,  'tis  a  blessing  that  we  die  all  together,  and  none 
left  to  mourn." 

"  That  may  be  for  you  and  me  who  have  lived  the  best 
years  of  our  life,  but  for  those  in  there  but  just  tasting  the 
sweets  of  life,  with  years  of  joy  unspent,  'tis  another  matter." 

Then  we  were  silent  for  a  while,  till  feeling  the  water  lav- 
ing my  feet,  I  asked  if  we  should  not  now  tell  Mr.  Godwin 
of  our  condition. 

"  'Twas  in  my  mind,  Kit,"  answers  he  •  "I  will  send  him 
out  to  you." 

He  went  into  the  cabin,  and  Mr.  Godwin  coming  out, 
I  showed  him  our  state.  But  'twas  no  surprise  to  him. 
Only,  it  being  now  about  three  in  the  morning,  and  the 
moon  risen  fair  and  full  in  the  heavens,  he  casts  his  eyes 
along  the  silver  path  on  the  water  in  the  hope  of  rescue, 
and  finding  none,  he  grasps  my  hand  and  says  : 


JACK    DAWSON,    HIS    END.  345 

"  God's  will  be  done  !  Tis  a  mercy  that  my  dear  love  is 
spared  this  last  terror.  Our  pain  will  not  be  long." 

A  shaft  of  moonlight  entered  the  cabin,  and  there  we  per- 
ceived Dawson  kneeling  by  the  crib,  with  his  head  laid  upon 
the  pillow  beside  his  daughter. 

He  rose  and  came  out  without  again  turning  to  look  on 
Moll,  and  Mr.  Godwin  took  his  place. 

"  I  feel  more  happy,  Kit,"  says  Jack,  laying  his  hand  upon 
my  shoulder.  "  I  do  think  God  will  be  merciful  to  us." 

"  Aye,  surely,"  says  I,  wilfully  mistaking  his  meaning.  "  I 
think  the  water  hath  risen  no  higher  this  last  hour." 

"  I'll  see  how  our  sheet  hangs ;  do  you  look  if  the  water 
comes  in  yet  at  the  sluice  hole." 

And  so,  giving  my  arm  a  squeeze  as  he  slips  his  hand 
from  my  shoulder,  he  went  to  the  fore  part  of  the  vessel, 
while  I  crossed  to  the  sluice  hole,  where  the  water  was 
spurting  through  a  chink. 

I  rose  after  jamming  the  jacket  to  staunch  the  leak,  and 
turning  towards  Jack  I  perceived  him  standing  by  the  bulwark, 
with  the  moon  beyond.  And  the  next  moment  he  was  gone. 
And  so  ended  the  life  of  this  poor,  loving,  unlucky  man. 

I  know  not  whether  it  was  this  lightening  of  our  burden, 
or  whether  at  that  time  some  accident  of  a  fold  in  the  sail 
sucking  into  the  leaking  planks,  stayed  the  further  ingress  of 
waters,  but  certain  it  is  that  after  this  we  sank  no  deeper  to 
any  perceptible  degree ;  and  so  it  came  about  that  we  were 
sighted  by  a  fishing-boat  from  Carthagena,  a  little  after  day- 
break, and  were  saved  —  we  three  who  were  left. 


346  A    SET    OF    ROGUES, 

I  have  spent  the  last  week  at  Hurst  Court,  where  Moll 
and  her  husband  have  lived  ever  since  Lady  Godwin's 
death.  They  are  making  of  hay  in  the  meadows  there ; 
and  'twas  sweet  to  see  Moll  and  her  husband,  with  their 
two  boys,  cocking  the  sweet  grass.  And  all  very  merry  at 
supper  j  only  one  sad  memory  cast  me  down  as  I  thought 
of  poor  Jack,  sorrowing  to  think  he  could  not  see  the 
happiness  which,  as  much  as  our  past  troubles,  was  due 
to  him. 


THE   END. 


WORKS   BY   S.    R.    CROCKETT. 


THE    STICKIT    MINISTER, 

AND   SOME    COMMON  MEN. 
i2mo.    Cloth.     $1.50. 

"  To  come  across  a  volume  like  this  is  indeed  refreshing.  No  wailing  pessimism 
mars  our  enjoyment  with  its  dreary  disbelief  in  humanity;  every  page  exhibits  a 
robust  faith  in  the  higher  possibilities  of  our  nature,  and  the  result  is  distinctly  suc- 
cessful. .  .  .  The  author  has  constructed  stories  full  of  grace  and  charm.  Those  to 
whom  humanity  in  its  most  primitive  and  least  complex  aspect  is  interesting  will 
find  real  pleasure  in  studying  Mr.  Crockett's  strong  and  sympathetic  presentment  of 
Scottish  peasant  life." —  The  Speaker. 


THE    RAIDERS. 


BEING  SOME  PASSAGES  IN  THE  LIFE   OF  JOHN  FA  A, 
LORD  AND  EARL  OF  LITTLE  EGYPT. 

I2H10.    Cloth.    $1.50. 

"...  The  things  that  befell  us  in  those  strange  years  when  the  hill  outlaws 
collogued  with  the  wild  freetraders  of  the  Holland  traffic,  and  fell  upon  us  to  the 
destruction  of  the  life  of  man,  the  carrying  away  of  much  bestial,  besides  the  putting 
of  many  of  His  Majesty's  lieges  in  fear.  .  .  ." —  The  Foreword. 


MAD   SIR   UCHTRED   OF   THE    HILLS. 

i6mo.     Buckram.    $1.25. 

"Mr.  Crockett  is  surely  the  poet-laureate  of  Galloway.  The  scene  of  his  latest 
tale  ('Mad  Sir  Uchtred')  is  laid  among  the  hills  with  which  we  became  familiar  in 
'  The  Raiders.'  The  Lady  of  Garthland  makes  a  gracious  and  pathetic  figure,  and 
the  wild  and  terrible  Uchtred,  the  wrong  done  him,  the  vengeance  which  he  did  not 
take,  —  all  these  things  are  narrated  in  a  style  of  exquisite  clearness  and  beauty. 
Mr.  Crockett  need  not  fear  comparison  with  any  of  the  young  Scotsmen  who  are  giv- 
ing to  English  literature,  just  now,  so  much  that  is  fresh,  and  wholesome,  and 
powerful."  —  Boston  Courier. 

4 


MACM1LLAN   &   CO., 

66   FIFTH   AVENUE,    NEW  YORK. 


WORKS    BY    ROLF    BOLDREWOOD. 


NEVERMORE. 

13rno.     Cloth,  $1.25. 

ROBBERY    UNDER    ARMS. 

Few  Edition.     13mo.     Cloth,  S1.35. 

We  have  nothing  but  praise  for  this  story.  Of  adventure  .01  the  most 
stirring  kind  there  is,  as  we  have  said,  abundance.  But  there  is  more  than 
this.  The  characters  are  drawn  with  great  skill.  Everyone  of  the  gang  of 
bushrangers  is  strongly  individualized.  We  have  not  the  mere  catalogue 
of  fortis  Gyas  fortisque  Cloanthus,  but  genuine  men.  The  father,  a  sturdy 
Englishman,  whose  whole  nature  is  warped  by  early  influences;  the  hero, 
poor  "  Jim,'1  his  brother,  a  simple,  lovable  fellow  who  might  have  gone  straight 
under  happier  circumstances  ;  Starlight,  a  gentleman  by  birth  and  education, 
who  has  a  strange  story  behind  him  in  the  Old  Country ;  and,  lastly,  the  half- 
breed  Warrigal, — are  all  admirable  figures.  This  is  a  book  of  no  common, 
literary  force. — Spectator. 

THE    MINER'S    RIGHT. 

A    TALE   OF    THE  AUSTRALIAN  GOLD-FIELDS, 
13mo.     Cloth,    SI. 35. 

Full  of  good  passages,  passages  abounding  in  vivacity,  in  the  color  and 
play  of  life.  .  .  .  The  pith  of  the  book  lies  in  its  singularly  fresh  and  vivid 
pictures  of  the  humors  of  the  gold-fields  ;  tragic  humors  enough  they  are  too, 
here  and  again.  .  .  .  The  various  types  of  humanity  that  strut,  or  in  those 
days  used  to  strut,  across  that  strangest  of  the  world's  stage,  an  Australian 
gold-field,  are  capitally  touched  in,  for  Mr.  Boldrewood  can  draw  a  man  as 
well  as  tell  a  story. — World. 

THE    SQUATTER'S    DREAM. 

I3mo.     Cloth,   «1. 35. 

A  story  of  Australian  life,  told  with  directness  and  force.  The  author' s 
mastery  of  his  subjects  adds  much  to  the  impressiveness  of  the  story,  which 
no  doubt  might  be  told  as  literally  true  of  hundreds  of  restless  and  ambitious 
young  Australians. — N.  Y.  Tribune. 

A    COLONIAL    REFORMER. 

13mo.     Cloth,   SI. 35. 

"  Rolf  Boldrewood  "  has  written  much  and  well  on  the  Australian  colonies, 
but  chiefly  in  the  form  of  novels,  and  good  novels  they  are  too.  The  Austra- 
lian scenes,  rural  and  urban,  are  vividly  described  by  Mr.  Boldrewood,  and 
there  are  among  the  characters  examples  of  the  various  adventurers  and 
rogues  that  infest  new  countries,  which  recall  pur  early  California  days. 
Whoever  wants  to  know  how  they  live  in  Australia  will  have  the  want  sup- 
plied.— Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  books  about  Australia  we  have  ever  read. — 
Glasgow  Herald. 

Mr.  Boldrewood  can  tell  what  he  knows  with  great  point  and  vigor,  and 
there  is  no  better  reading  than  the  adventurous  parts  of  his  books. — Saturday 
Review. 


MACMILLAN   &  CO., 

66   FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK. 


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